On the Fence
by bufudyne
Summary: When Jak and Ashelin forget about Keira and Torn, a relationship begins to form between the mechanic and the Freedom League soldier. But maybe Jak has to lose Keira before he realizes what she was to him... Will he be able to get her back? Jak/Keira/Torn
1. Meeting Torn

**This story takes place after Jak 3. Also, facts will probably be kind of off, but that shouldn't interfere with the story too much. It's just an experiment, so please don't be too harsh! Thanks. :) **

**Oh, and before I forget: if you dislike Torn and Keira having any sort of romantic tension between them, this isn't the story for you!**

* * *

_He had kissed her…_

Angrily, the woman shouldered her way through the throngs of people crowding the bazaar. She ground her teeth as she stomped her way towards the agricultural district, feeling strangely disconnected.

Not that she cared; only one thing was on her mind.

…A certain bastard by the name of Jak.

Oh, she liked him enough. She dared say she even loved him. But apparently, he did not reciprocate her feelings.

If he _had_, he wouldn't have been _**KISSING **_a certain busty general.

Oooh. If Keira wanted to do one thing just then, it would be to punch Jak's stupid face in.

Just to clarify, Keira was generally not a violent person. First, you would have to realize the poor woman's predicament. Ever since she had laid eyes on that mute boy with the pretty blue eyes, she had been stuck with a near-obsessive crush (not that she would ever admit that, of course). It gradually evolved into love, a love which had previously never left her, even after all the changes they both went through.

He was her first and only true love. That she knew in her heart.

And never once had she been allowed to kiss him.

Sometimes, Keira caught herself staring at his soft-looking lips, wondering what their first kiss would be like. Worried, she even went to the extent of practicing on her pillow (yet another thing for which she would rather die than tell anyone).

And now, that first kiss had been ruined. Keira's little fantasy, like a beautiful, delicate, ornate mirror, had been _shattered. _Shattered into a thousand little pointy fragments!

And _who _shattered it, exactly?

Well, that awful slut Ashelin (A/N: I don't actually think that Ashelin is an awful slut!) played a big part in it, but ultimately, it was Jak's decision. Jak was supposed to love her.

But anyway, the point of the matter was that she and Jak were unofficially together, and after being everybody's exciting hero, he went and locked lips with Ashelin.

He certainly wasn't_Keira's _hero.

Giving Ashelin_ Keira's_ special "After-the-Climatic-Battle-Kiss" was simply unforgivable. At least it seemed that way at the moment.

Oh! And to make matters even **worse, **she found out about this scandal complete with all the little details. Yep, Daxter and his insensitive fat mouth came up to her and started yapping about all the disgusting smut he had witnessed. Keira got blasted with an earful of tongues, lip-locking, and passion. Needless to say, she later had some pretty graphic nightmares.

She should have known better than to believe everything Daxter said; yet she had a terrible feeling that there was truth in what the ottsel had told her. Sure enough, she began to hear people talking about how the handsome rebel hero had been snagged by the ex-baron's sexy daughter.

It definitely hurt Keira deeply. Jak had been snagged by herself from the beginning! Right?!

Right. No question about it...

But there was that doubt.

How could she ever compete with Ashelin? Ashelin was shamelessly hot. Keira was…to preserve her self-esteem, Keira didn't finish that thought. But undeniably, in terms of desirability, Ashelin cast a tall shadow over Keira. Hell, Ashelin's boobs alone could cast a shadow over her.

Keira looked down sullenly at her own unremarkable breasts.

Well, maybe it was time to give up on Jak. Not that she hadn't tried. She couldn't get the guy out of her head. And besides, she wasn't really even sure of anything she felt anymore. Her heart was a mess of tangled emotions.

'_Okay. Stop thinking about all of this. It's not getting you anywhere, Keira,'_she thought to herself.

If there was one place she really wanted to get more than anywhere, it was to Sandover. She missed her home so much, with the pale beaches, the fresh air, the beautiful green trees, the sparkling blue waters, the pristine and unpolluted sky...Haven City was grimy, dark, smelly, busy, and to put it in short, _depressing._

Unbidden thoughts of the Rift Rider she had built came to mind. Keira found herself wishing that she had gone through it instead of young Jak.

'_That's cruel and selfish!!!' _she realized, appalled with herself.

'_But then again, I was the one who labored to build it, and that little kid is gonna grow up to be a cheating dummy anyway…' _A rather nasty part of Keira's mind was starting to win her over.

'_Wait, what did you tell yourself about not thinking about Jak? You were trying to enjoy yourself!' _Keira listened to her reasonable side, deep in thought. She puzzled over the meaning of "enjoy" for a moment.

Ah, yes. The reason she had come to the agricultural district was to get some fresh air.

Seating herself on the sturdy fence surrounding a herd of yakkows, she gazed off into the distance at the fields of cultured plants. She told herself that she was not weak. Romance was not a necessity for a happy life. _Jak_was not a necessity for a happy life.

Sighing contentedly at the familiar sound of mooing yakkows, she closed her eyes, swinging her legs slightly. A gentle breeze blew towards her face, causing her green and blue locks of hair to flutter slightly.

It was all very pleasant, until an obnoxiously loud, piercing voice started yelling at her.

"**Hey! What do you think you're doing?! Get off the fence!!" **

Keira's eyes snapped open. Wasn't she allowed to have a bit of peace?! Annoyed, she unwisely chose to stick her tongue out at the offending Freedom League Soldier in a rather childish manner.

"**Why you- don't make go over there and get you!!" **

Keira giggled devilishly. She knew that Freedom League Soldiers were not known for being violent, unlike the old Krimzon Guards. And besides, it gave her immense satisfaction to hear stress in somebody else's voice.

So it was mean. _Life_was mean.

She continued to sit perched on the fence, swaying her legs nonchalantly. She ignored the FLS until he strode over to her.

"Get of the fence!" he demanded grouchily. Keira continued to swing her legs, unconcerned.

"Why?" she asked lightly. Behind his tinted visor, the man scowled.

"Hey…don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked suspiciously. He was pretty sure he had seen that green and blue hair somewhere.

"Well, I don't know. What's your name?" she asked, starting to get annoyed and wishing he would just leave her the hell alone.

The FLS paused, considering whether or not he should grace her with that knowledge. "Commander Torn," he said gruffly.

Keira looked at him with interest. "Aren't you the guy from the Underground?" she inquired, incredulous.

"Yeah. So what?!" he barked impatiently. Sheesh. Somebody was grumpy.

"Hm…nothing." she replied airily, continuing to swinging her legs in that casual way that made poor grouchy Torn unreasonably angry. He glared at her.

"The Underground has made its point. Praxis is dead," he huffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you know all this already?"

"Uh-huh. Well, nice to meet you, Torn," she said sarcastically, if not rudely. She didn't really care what anyone thought of her anymore. Getting rejected by the love of your life could do that to you. "You can go on your way now."

Torn growled in frustration. "Didn't you hear me?! I told you to get off the fence!"

Keira rolled her eyes rudely. "And I asked you why, and you didn't answer me!"

A vein popped in Torn's forehead. He _really _didn't need this right now. He had been in an ass mood ever since the kiss between Ashelin and Jak.

"_Because_," he gritted out, "you're disturbing the livestock! If you want to sit down, go sit over there!" He pointed to a little bench in the distance.

Keira yawned. "I don't want to walk all the way over there. I'm comfortable right here, thank-you. And the yakkows don't mind me," she said, gesturing towards the oblivious animals grazing on the green tufts of grass. "What; is there some sort of law against sitting on fences?"

Torn chose not to reply. Instead, he took off his helmet so that Keira could be exposed to his evil death glare. "Get. Off. The. Fence."

Keira looked surprisingly unimpressed. "Just leave me alone! You don't have any legitimate reason to be bothering me. Or are you trying to hit on me?" she asked her last question slyly, and in a joking manner meant to piss him off.

It worked wonderfully. Torn ground his teeth loudly. "_Of course not!!_" he hissed. "Do you see anyone else sitting on the fence? No. So get off!"

"Did anyone else organize a resistance against Praxis? No. So go away!" she shot back.

"What does _that_have to do with anything?" he spat out. His icy blue eyes flashed angrily. "Why are you being so stubborn? I'm not going to put up with this much longer!"

Keira, too, was angered. She stood up, and even though she was shorter than him, glared at him fiercely. "Look, I don't want to deal with you either! Sitting on a fence isn't hurting anyone, and I just want to be here without nosy jerks interrupting me! I think you're just pissed off about something else, and you're taking it out on _me!_"

Torn winced. Ouch. That last part was uncannily true. "Fine," he muttered, frowning. He hated to admit defeat, but his stance had been a bit knocked by her viciousness. Who expected such an argument from a girl who dyed her hair weird colors and wore such campy old clothes?

For some reason, the girl continued to glare at him, possibly even more intensely. "I do NOT dye my hair, and my clothes are not campy!" she spat poisonously.

Oops. Had he said that out loud?

Well, Torn was a man of strategy, and he knew when it was wise to retreat.

Before she could continue, he said quickly, "Uh, I guess I'll leave you be. Just don't mess with the yakkows." With that, he placed his shiny blue helmet back on and hurried off.

After Torn had left, Keira's rage simmered down and she sat back down on the fence. "Ha!" she said out loud, rather triumphantly. "That Torn is a real jerk. I hope I never see _him _again."

But of course, it seemed nothing Keira ever hoped for came to be.

* * *

Keira trudged through the dim and grimy streets of Haven, heading back to her apartment. The light was beginning to fade away, and another unexceptionally dull day was coming to an end. The dying rays of light cast grey overtones on the already dismal streets. She sighed heavily, her slim hands stuffed in her pockets. The miserable subject of Jak and Ashelin was once again being rehearsed in her head.

Needless to say, Keira was feeling very bitter.

"Keira! Keira! Hey, babe, wait up!"

Extremely reluctantly, the mechanic with the blue and green hair turned around. "Hello, Daxter," she said as unenthusiastically as possible.

Not noticing her lack of interest, the furry orange ottsel beamed up at her. "Here!" he piped merrily, handing her a fluorescent orange flier. "I've been looking for you everywhere! I wanted you to come to the dance party at the Naughty Ottsel tonight. It would definitely cheer you up, don't you think, Keira? Who knows, you might find a nice guy there! One almost as good as me!" He grinned widely at her with what he thought was a winning smile.

Keira rubbed the dark bags under her green eyes. "Hn. No thanks, Daxter."

Not discouraged, Daxter leapt onto her shoulder, much to her discomfort. "C'mon, Keir! You never have any fun."

Keira was inclined to agree. She never did have any fun. So what? She didn't really care. All she wanted to do was angst about Jak. And speaking of Jak, he'd probably be there. And she wasn't ready to face him. So she replied dully to the furry orange creature, "I'm not much of a dancing person, Daxter. Maybe you should find somebody more exciting."

Daxter pouted. "Baby, you're really important to me! Just come with me this one time, and I'll promise you'll have fun." He gave her a big furry thumbs-up.

Keira couldn't help but smile slightly. It was nice to know somebody cared. "Alright then, Daxter. If you say so…"

Daxter grinned. "Great! You're doing the right thing, Keira!" Then he said something so sensitive that he surprised Keira. "Don't mind Jak. He can't appreciate you good enough."

She just nodded, stunned. Then she followed Daxter off to his bar. Because he was right; she should enjoy life more, and stop wasting away pining over Jak. The only problem was getting over him…

* * *

Argh. Keira had entirely forgotten why she had ever agreed to come to this horrible place. The music was way too loud and not to her taste, the decorations were a ghastly shade of orange, the air smelled of a combination of cigar smoke, alcohol, and body odor, and worst of all, an all too familiar person had just sat on the stool beside her.

Torn didn't even glance at her, and Keira chose to ignore him.

"Hi! What can I get for you?" a perky Tess asked, her voice raised over the thrum of music and voices.

"Uh, orange juice would be fine…" she said uncertainly, not wanting to drink any alcohol. Looking around, she saw that everyone was drinking some form of it. Great, now she felt even more out of place.

Smiling, Tess came back with her drink, and then went off to another customer. Keira took a sip of her orange juice, then almost spit it back out. Was there _beer_mixed in?! Eww.

Disgusted, she pushed it away. She sat on the yakkow hide stool for a while, her face resting on her open palms. Distantly, Keira began to wonder when Jak would come…she sighed dreamily.

Oh. Right. He'd probably come with Miss Boobtastic.

She sighed again, this time sadly.

Keira continued to sit at the bar under the soft yellow lighting with nobody to talk to. She was bored out of her skull.

Of course, talking to the tattooed man next to her who was drinking his beer all by himself was completely out of the question.

Adamantly, she continued to ignore him. She thought she saw him glance at her out of her peripheral vision, but it must have been her imagination. Attempting to stave off boredom whilst waiting for somebody to approach her, she began counting the bottles of liquor on the rack behind the bar.

It suddenly hit Keira how totally pathetic this was…which was why she decided to initiate a conversation with Torn.

"Hi Torn," she yelled over the noise.

She listened for a response, and thought she heard a grunt. But you couldn't be too sure.

"…It sure is loud in here, huh?" she said hesitantly. He didn't even look at her. All she saw was his profile. She noticed he had a very straight nose. His tattoos were dulled with time, and in shadowed areas of his face they looked almost like angular shadows themselves. Absentmindedly, she wondered how old Torn was. His eyes were an abnormally pale shade of blue, not rich and alluring like Jak'…

Um. Time to stop staring at Torn.

"You're just about as talkative as a block of wood, aren't you?" she muttered dejectedly, thinking he wouldn't hear her over the din.

"What?" he asked irritably, turning towards her.

Oops…at least she got his attention.

"I said, 'it's loud in here'," she corrected quickly. He looked at her suspiciously, but didn't press any further.

"Did you have fun sitting on your fence?" he asked sourly.

Keira nodded enthusiastically. "So, what's eating you?" she asked curiously. He did seem to be upset about something.

"None of your business," he snapped, turning back to his mug of beer.

Keira sighed. She didn't care if she was being nosy, but something about him made her want to talk to him. She stared at the crowd of chatting and laughing people out on the dance floor as she thought about how to best approach him.

"How about I tell you a story, then maybe you'll feel better about talking to me?" she tried. She felt stupid, though.

Torn shrugged, so Keira continued. "Well, you know Jak? He and I were in love. I think. I know_ I_ was in love with him, at least."

Torn looked at her with a sudden interest. Slightly uncomfortably, she continued. "We had a bit of a fall-out when he and I got separated and I was sort of seeing this other guy…" Keira chose not to mention who 'the other guy' was. "…but we made up. We never got to kiss, because Daxter kept interrupting us."

Torn had a bit of an idea where this was going, but he continued to listen to her. "We didn't see each other that often afterwards, because, you know, he was off _being the hero_, and then I hear that he was kissing Ashelin Praxis. We haven't seen each other since that news, and I- "

Keira broke off to keep the tremor out of her voice. It would be extremely humiliating to start crying in front of him. Torn just nodded in understanding. Keira suddenly felt very silly, telling such a personal story to somebody she barely knew.

"So, do you want to tell me about yourself now?" she asked Torn nervously. She berated herself for sounding so timid. There was no reason to be shy around him, right?

"Ashelin was my girlfriend," he said brusquely, taking another swig of beer.

Keira blinked. "Oh, um…alright. Care to elaborate?"

Torn sighed, plonking his mug back on the wooden counter. "Ashelin and I were together, we got along well, then I find out she's kissing Jak. And to tell the truth, it hurt more than it should have. I think she was the only woman who I ever really…" he trailed off, not bothering to finish the sentence.

"Loved?" Keira asked. Torn winced. She wondered why. Did this man have an aversion to romance or something? Feeling rather awkward, she forgetfully took a sip of her orange juice, then nearly gagged. Seriously, orange juice and beer was NOT a good combination. Was it an aspiration of Daxter's to have all the drinks be alcoholic?

She was broken out of her disgust by Torn's voice. It was a barely audible, "I don't know."

Keira smiled at him. She felt a bit more companionable with him, now that they were in the same boat. "Maybe you just liked her because she's so…um, what's a good word…"

'_Busty?' _she thought, though that wouldn't sound so great on her part.

Torn sighed heavily. Typically, other women were jealous of Ashelin's figure. He supposed this aqua-haired woman was just the same.

"Look, she's very intelligent, has a good sense of humor, and is a strong person; _in addition _to being pretty," he growled.

"Well, I didn't mean to sound like that," Keira said apologetically, a light blush staining her cheeks. Inwardly, she was collapsing. How on earth would Jak ever come back to her if Ashelin was all that and more?

"So…this is usually the part where the two scorned lovers get together, huh?" she mused out loud.

"Give me a break…" Torn said, looking agitated, if not totally disturbed. He scooted conspicuously to the edge of his bar stool farthest away from the mechanic.

Damn, the man had good hearing. Keira was insulted that he had moved away from her as if she was some kind of weirdo. She was also mortified that he had actually taken her little comment seriously.

"I-it was just a_joke!!_" she cried out. She was horrified to feel her cheeks blazing hotly. "Don't you read any romance novels?"

Torn stared at her, eyebrows raised. "No."

Oh, what a wonderful impression she had made.

Fortunately, Keira was saved from having to say anything more as the crowd quieted down and everybody turned towards the front door.

Deep down inside of them, Torn and Keira both knew what was coming.

"Jak! Hey buddy! Hey, Ashelin, baby!" Daxter scurried towards two people who had just entered from the blustery outside. The crowd began to murmur excitedly as a blonde man with brilliant cobalt eyes strode in, an arm clasped tightly around the thin exposed waist of a gorgeous smiling redhead; they were the perfect celebrity couple.

Keira's felt a hard pressure in her throat. Her heart was throbbing, dull and quick. No wonder Ashelin was smiling…she was being held by Jak, after all. Keira's whole body was stiff and frozen as she clenched her fists, which were shaking in her lap.

Feeling almost as if she was dreaming, she glanced beside her at Torn. He stared at the couple stonily, a muscle in his jaw twitching. His left hand grasped the handle of his mug so tightly that his knuckles were milky white, and his eyes were squinting with a dangerously homicidal expression.

Frightened, Keira vacated her seat to one far away from Torn.

She watched Jak from her new seat, struggling not to burst into tears. He didn't even notice her, even with her bright green hair. She could feel her lip trembling uncontrollably.

Jak and Ashelin slipped into a rather private booth, oblivious to the watery-eyed mechanic watching them through a gap in the mass of dancers.

Keira continued to ogle, as if her eyes were magnetically attached to the sight of them.

'_God…they look so good together. Who am I to think that Jak and I were meant to be…?'_

Miserably, she took a shaky breath. Jak and Ashelin hadn't even started doing anything yet, but her heart already felt like it had been trampled by yakkows and chewed up by Metalheads. It was an actual physical pain, a throbbing of her system, a shortness of breath.

Suddenly, Jak caught her eye and waved. Keira just gaped. Ashelin, looking for who Jak was greeting, noticed Keira. She smiled (quite a fake smile, at that) and waved also.

Oh, the _BITCH!!! _The cruel, evil _BITCH!!!_

Keira turned around so that nobody would see the hot salty tears pouring down her face. How could he just wave at her like that and turn back to Ashelin? It was almost as if he was so stupid that he couldn't even comprehend what he was doing to her…

Maybe he _didn't._

….

Of course he did. Nobody was _that _thick.

Wiping her eyes hastily, she looked over at Torn again. He looked no less hazardous with his intimidating glower and shuddering hand.

Then her attention was diverted to Jak and Ashelin again. They were talking and laughing, like two people having fun, a happy _couple. _

The aqua-haired woman suddenly felt very lonely. She never really belonged in this era in the first place, and now she didn't even have Jak.

Seeking the comfort of company, she wiped her eyes one last time and cautiously approached Torn again.

"Hi," she greeted. He ignored her. Rude bastard.

Torn's eyes were glued to Ashelin. He felt like a sharp blade was twisting slowly in his heart. Had she really just discarded him, without warning, for_Jak?_ Like an old sweater? Like a carton of milk past its expiration date? (A/N: You love my corny similes. Admit it:D)

His eyes narrowed. He wasn't an old sweater, and he most _certainly _wasn't expired milk.

However, he couldn't feel any anger towards Ashelin. She was just too beautiful of person, in both body and soul…

_JAK _on the other hand…

He fixed the ignorant blonde with his infamous Murderous Stare. Unfortunately, a feminine hand started to wave in his face, obstructing his view.

"Hellooooo…anybody home?" said the obnoxious voice of Miss Strange Fashion Sense.

Grrr, her voice was so scratchy. Did she have a permanent cold or something?

Reluctantly, Torn snapped his head up towards her, his cold blue eyes meeting her bloodshot emerald ones.

He blinked in surprise. Had she been _crying? _Scrutinizing her, he noted that her eyelashes were spiked with lingering moisture, and her sparkly green orbs were filmed over with excessive moisture.

Torn wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hated it when people cried.

"What do _you_want?" he growled. What an unattractive girl. No wonder Jak had dumped her. But he didn't have to take _Ashelin. _

Keira stepped back a bit, hurt. She had never really met somebody with such a cutting personality. Replying with, _'I was lonely' _would sound incredibly feeble, so she decided to verbally hit him back.

"Ashelin sure looks happy with Jak, doesn't she? I'll bet she'll never let go of him now. He's probably a great kisser, too," she said, attempting to sound offhand. All she really succeeded in was depressing herself as well as Torn.

The man with the tattooed face continued to look at her, his brow creased. "Go away," he snapped crossly.

Keira gasped in outrage. "This is my seat!" she yelled at him, momentarily forgetting Jak for the offensive Commander before her. "This section of the bar isn't your territory, you know! You can't go shooing people off just because you're a crotchety old jerk! If you want to mope because your pretty princess found somebody better, go sulk in the corner!" she shouted, gesturing towards a shadowy area tucked away at the edge of the room.

Well, Torn was twitching, grinding his jaw, and popping veins, but he wasn't even paying attention to her. Instead, he was grimacing at something over her shoulder.

Annoyed, she turned around to see what all the fuss was about.

The music had died down to something more gentle, more _romantic, _and the crowd had formed a misshaped ring around a certain special couple.

Keira inhaled sharply. All she could do was gawk like a fish. Jak was actually slow-dancing with somebody other than her. Ashelin, specifically.

Keira was in such a state of shock that her body didn't know what to do. What was "breathing", again?

Ashelin's stunning body was pressed up against Jak's faded blue tunic. Her lovely, delicately tattooed face tilted up towards him, gazing up into ocean-blue orbs with her seductively lidded jade eyes.

Passionately, her full rosy lips met Jak's thinner ones in a gentle kiss.

The crowd squealed and 'ooh'ed as Haven's favorite couple held each other lovingly. Everyone was buzzing with exhilaration at getting to see such an exciting act of romance.

Everyone except for those two unobtrusive party-poopers in the corner.

Suddenly finding herself hyperventilating, Keira plopped her body down on the seat next to Torn.

"I can't _believe_this!!" she whispered, to nobody in particular. She looked down at her hands, which were a pale shade of milky white. They were trembling violently.

Unexpectedly, a larger, rougher pair of warm hands enclosed hers firmly.

'_Jak!' _she thought joyfully, disorientated. Oh. Wait. Jak was dancing with that horrible woman.

Raising her head, she saw, much to her surprise, that the owner of the hands was none other than Torn himself.

Torn looked down at her wide sea-green eyes. They actually sort of reminded him of Ashelin's…

The way she was looking at him, like he was wearing a clown suit or something, was beginning to exasperate him. Ashelin definitely would not look at him like that.

"Stop twitching," he muttered gruffly, referring to Keira's hands. Quickly, he released her icy cold hands.

Keira sighed. Of course. Torn wasn't even looking at her anymore; he was staring wistfully at Ashelin.

'_Whatever.'_ Keira turned her gaze to Jak and began to watch him longingly.

"They look so…_right_together, don't they?" Keira murmured, disheartened.

"**No," **Torn gritted out strongly. "They look awful together."

Keira shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chin, balancing precariously on the bar stool. She groaned and hugged herself. How could Jak be so brutal in his snubbing of her?

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the dance ended.

Ashelin and Jak went back to their little booth. Keira and Torn wallowed in self-pity.

A new song started, and Keira saw that Jak was suddenly coming in their direction…without Ashelin.

Torn glared daggers at the blonde with all the venom he could muster, but nobody noticed.

"Hi Keira," Jak started awkwardly.

_So._ He hadn't totally forgotten that she existed.

"H-hello, _Jak,_" she replied bitterly. Jak blinked in confusion at her tone of voice.

"I was wondering if you wanted to dance…?" he inquired nervously.

Keira just stared. The fool had the gall to ask her to _dance _after he himself had just put on that performance with Ashelin?

…But she _did _want to dance with Jak. She really, _really _did.

"Uh…" she began uncertainly. What should she say?

Much to her surprise and utter confusion, Torn suddenly stood up between her and Jak.

"She doesn't want to dance with you," he growled, fists clenched.

Unsettled, Jak resisted the impulse to step back. "What?" he asked, perplexed. Since when did Torn have any interest in Keira's business? His eyes narrowed as suspicious thoughts crossed his mind. Did Keira and Torn…? No. It just wasn't possible.

"You heard me," said Torn in his rough voice, glaring at Jak with his chilly ice eyes.

Jak glared back. "Keira can answer her own questions, Torn." He moved past Torn and looked at Keira expectantly. "Would you like to dance?" he asked again, the tips of his ears tinged red with embarrassment. He always felt different around Keira…he liked her…a lot…but Ashelin…

Keira cheeks flamed hotly as well. "I-" she squeaked. Pressure, pressure! "I have a headache!" she blurted out. _'Good job,' _she thought to herself sarcastically. _'You always take the path of least resistance…'_

Jak nodded. "Okay then. I'll see you around, Keira." He then proceeded to walk back into the crowd, but not before shooting Torn a mistrustful look.

Keira sighed in relief, and Torn sat back down. "What was that all about?" she asked him uneasily.

Torn shrugged in his usual unsociable manner. "I don't believe in anything that asshole says."

Keira's eyes widened in shock at his language. "Don't call Jak that!" she snapped, her cheeks coloring to the same shade of magenta as her pants. Torn turned to her seriously, eyebrows raised.

"He_ is_ an asshole," he stated sternly, ignoring Keira's wince. "Look what he's done to both you and me. Neither of us was even properly broken up with; it's as if we're not important enough for that."

Keira looked away, troubled. He did have a point. "Well, it was Ashelin's fault, too. Does that make her a bitch?" she asked tartly.

"No," came the simple reply. "It wasn't her fault at all."

Keira huffed. "How was it not her fault?"

Torn was silent. "Jak…seduced her."

Keira stared, then started laughing without any real mirth. It was more…_maniacal_ laughter. "Jak? Seduce Ashelin? Wake up, Torn!! _Ashelin _was the one who kissed _Jak_!!"

'_Really,' _Keira thought sardonically. _'Is the poor man trying to delude himself? It was obviously the other way around.'_

"You weren't there," Torn pointed out, annoyed at her hysterical cackling.

"You weren't there_either!_"

"So what?"

"_So, _You don't know that Jak was the one who kissed Ashelin!"

"But I do know."

"_NO, _you do not!!"

"It's obvious, um…" he trailed off. What was her name again? Kairi? Kiki? Carrie? Cara? He had heard Jak say it…

"Go ahead, finish," Keira demanded impatiently.

Torn cleared his throat. "What's your name again?"

Keira sighed in frustration as her palm hit her forehead. "Alzheimer's already?" she deadpanned.

Torn gave her an extremely insulted look. "I'm only 27," he grumped, taking her literally.

"Yeah right. You're obviously forty-something."

Torn stared at her. Did she even know who he was? No sane person would dare tell that to him. Unconsciously, his calloused fingers moved to his tattooed face, checking for wrinkles.

Keira laughed.

Torn twitched. That was it. He was going to kill her.

He watched as the young mechanic stretched her arms out, yawning loudly. She certainly wasn't like most of Haven City's other females. And certainly not comparable to Ashelin. But was that really a bad thing…?

As Keira stretched out, her bright eyes automatically searched out Jak. There he was, sitting in the booth with _her, _conversing with Daxter. Her eyes lazily traced his strong jaw line, his nose, his eyes, his ears, his lips… Examining his small green goatee from afar, she wished his strong arms were holding her now…

Eyelids drooping heavily, Keira didn't realize that she herself was being observed.

"Past your bedtime, girl?" the Commander grunted.

"Eh? My name is Keira!" she pouted. "Last name's Hagai, age 22, my occupation is a mechanic, and I'm going home now." With some difficulty, she heaved herself off her seat and staggered away on stiff legs. Man, she was drowsy. Maybe it _was _past her bedtime…

"Wait," came the gravelly voice behind her. Keira turned around in the dim yellow lighting.

"What? I said I'm tired and I'm leaving!" the aqua-haired female snapped.

Torn got up and followed her. As his duty as a Freedom League Commander, it was wrong to let a tired young woman leave off into the night alone, especially with all the drunks outside. "It's not safe out there; I'll walk you home."

Keira smiled. She really had quite a striking smile…"It's okay, thanks. You can stay here. I have my wrench," she assured him, pulling a huge steel wrench out of a pocket in her worn baggy pants. Torn stepped back. Talk about scary.

"Well, bye! It was nice meeting you, even if you are a jerk!"

Torn looked on as the green and blue-haired head bobbed and wove its way through the crowd, until she disappeared altogether. For some indiscernible reason, he felt an odd sense of loss.

Glancing at Ashelin, he saw that Jak, who was nearby her, was surveying Keira in her departure.

Though he had no idea why, Torn didn't like that.

* * *

**So what did you think? I'm curious to know, since I don't think there's many Torn/Keira fics out there! And by the way, I like all the characters, Keira, Ashelin, Jak, and Torn. But truthfully, I don't think Jak and Ashelin make a very good lasting couple. **


	2. Regret?

**Hi! Thanks so much to those who reviewed. It let's me know that there are people out there who would like to see this continued. So thank you again for taking the time to let me know what you think!**

* * *

Keira trudged along the cold dark sidewalk towards her zoomer, which was parked a few blocks down from the Naughty Ottsel. She hugged herself tightly as chill winds blew their icy breath against her. There were drunks everywhere, thanks to Daxter's little party. A group of them stumbled by, laughing obnoxiously and pushing each other around playfully; Keira's brow creased in slight irritation. She wished she had worn a thicker sweater, but it didn't really matter anymore as her body was becoming extremely numb. Her eyelids drooped as she dragged one foot after the other automatically. The thin, dull moon cast a feeble light upon the dark, choppy waters of the harbor. She paused in her walk to lean against the grimy bricks of one of the buildings flanking the street.

By now, the young mechanic had ventured far from the rowdy noise of the bar. She gazed out at the churning waters, shivering in the harsh cold. Scenes from the party flickered through her mind: Torn being a crabby, stubborn jerk, Jak…Jak…Jak _kissing _Ashelin…she gritted her teeth. She shook her head violently, her aqua-colored locks of hair flinging about. She willfully resisted the urge to cry. Hadn't she cried enough, already? Keira heaved a dismal sigh. What more was there to be upset about? It wasn't like Jak would ever come back to her. She cursed as those damn sly tears managed to leak out.

But…hadn't he asked her to dance with him? Even though Ashelin was there also?

'_That doesn't mean _anything!_' _she corrected herself sternly. She wouldn't allow herself to even be hopeful. How would she ever let go that way? Determined, she moved away from the wall and continued her walk.

She listened to the sounds of her shoes hitting the pavement against the backdrop of blustery wind and turbulent water. The air, though cold, was tainted with the stench of pollutants from the nearby factories. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. _'I'm going to get lung cancer in this city, I just know it,' _she thought pessimistically. She rubbed her hands along her arms vigorously for warmth. She could make out the faint figure of her zoomer in the night gloom, about twenty feet away.

'_I should really redo the paint job,' _she thought. _'It's starting to become-' _Suddenly, somebody grabbed her hair roughly from behind, yanking her backwards. She yelped in shock, struggling to turn around, but another muscular arm wound its way around her waist, effectively binding her. "LET ME _GO!!!_" Keira shrieked, furiously thrashing around. The hand gripping her hair let go and instead clapped itself over her mouth. She winced at the smell of aftershave and booze. "MMMMFFF!!!" was all she could get out.

"Shut up," a deep voice slurred behind her. Her attacker clumsily slammed her into the side of a building, attempting to turn her towards him. Keira was in shock, but she still managed to try and reach her for her wrench while he yanked her around. A large hand clamped itself around her wrist with an iron grip and pinned her against the cold wall. She tried to make out the face, but it was so dark that his features were masked. It didn't matter, anyhow. He was just another jerk.

Infuriated, Keira brought her knee up sharply towards the man's groin. He grunted in pain, relaxing his hold on her for a split second. She _almost_escaped, but a rock hard fist pounded into her left eye. She cried out as pain exploded throughout her head, slumping down only to be jerked up sharply again.

"Do that again, bitch, and I'll punch you again," he yelled angrily. Keira hoped at least somebody had heard her attacker's loud voice, but the street seemed empty except for the party-goers in the distance. She squirmed about, attempting to escape, but to no avail. Then, she heard footsteps pounding towards them. Her heart fluttered with hope.

"STOP!!! This is the Freedom League!! Release her right now!" a gravelly voice yelled. Keira's breath hitched with optimism. Never had she thought that she would actually be happy to hear that voice.

Her attacker dropped her like burning metal and took off, his uneven footfalls resounding throughout the deserted street.

Torn, rather than chasing him, knelt down beside Keira, who was slumped against the wall, feeling her injured flesh tenderly.

"Shit," she cursed bitterly. "Why does all this happen to _me?_" Unbidden tears welled up in her green eyes, but she forcefully held them back. With a slight uncertainty, Torn put his arms around her shoulders and helped her up.

"It happens to lots of women in this city…especially the ones who walk alone at night when there are drunks out," he said pointedly. Keira kept silent. She really didn't want to hear the, 'I told you so' lecture. "Can you walk alright?" he asked, trying not to sound _too_concerned. He wouldn't want the girl to get the wrong idea about him. Commander Torn served the community and faithfully fulfilled his duty, but he definitely wasn't the kind of guy who ran around all the time rescuing uppity females who refused to listen to considerate advice. Nope.

"Yeah, I can walk, thanks," she murmured, still in shock. She could feel a hot, thick liquid running down her face. At first Keira thought that it was escaped tears, but when she wiped some off her face and examined her hand, she recognized it as her blood.

Torn grunted. "He broke the skin," he observed. "We should take you back to the bar to clean you up; the sooner the better." Keira just stared at him in horror. Go back…in _there?! _With Jak and Ashelin all cozy in their booth? Her face probably looked absolutely pummeled, judging by the way it felt at the moment. She didn't think that she could take all the looks of pity and/or horror she would get. And Jak…

"No. Just…no," she stated stubbornly. "I can drive home and sterilize the cut there." As proof, she fished into her pocket for her house keys and came up with…nothing. "Oh nooo!!" she wailed. "I lost them!" she smushed her palm against her forehead. "Stupid, careless me," she muttered angrily.

Torn laughed mirthlessly. "Come on," he quipped impatiently. "We need to bandage your wound; your face is looking awful." He carefully placed a hand on the small of her back and began to move her along.

"Thanks…" Keira mumbled reluctantly.

* * *

Jak was slumped over in the leather seat next to Ashelin. The room had become unbearably hot, and his skin had begun to stick to his shirt. Somebody was smoking, and the noxious grey cloud had spread itself throughout the muggy air. He sighed in irritation and fidgeted in the confined space, his drink abandoned.

Ashelin placed her cool pale hand on his cheek. "Feeling alright?" she asked gently. Jak briefly closed his eyes. _'No, not really, because something's up with Keira, and Torn just left a few minutes after her and I want to know what's going on between them!!!' _he wanted to lash out. But…smart old Jak knew better than to lose his temper with the fiery General.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled. There was quiet between them, but Jak could feel Ashelin's scrutinizing gaze on him through his peripheral vision. "Yes?" he snapped grouchily. Ashelin flinched slightly.

"I'm concerned about you, that's all," she said coolly. There was another awkward silence. Ashelin exhaled slowly, then leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder. "Jak…don't shut me out," she whispered softly.

Said man turned his head towards hers regretfully. "I…Ashelin, I-"

Unfortunately, his sentence was cut short by the loud shriek of a woman.

"Oh, gross, I hate blood!!" the partygoer moaned shrilly. The mass of people lessened their noise as a pair pushed their way from the door. Muttering ensued.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, move out of the way; this woman's seriously injured and all you useless people are doing is standing there staring like morons," growled a scowling tattooed man. He dragged the poor woman over to the bar. "Hey rat, where do you keep your first aid kit?" Torn gruffly addressed Daxter.

Daxter gawked in horror. "KEIRA!!!" he exclaimed dramatically. "YOUR FACE!!! It looks like metal-head mush!!"

Jak, who had previously been rather uninterested with the voices, stood up like a spring, knocking his glass over.

Jak hurried out of the booth, pushing people aside roughly. He reached the bar and stared in shock; the left side of the mechanic's face was a blossoming thundercloud of bruised black and indigo. Congealed blood crusted beneath her lower eyelashes and in her green bangs that framed her face.

"Keira…" he said hoarsely. "…What happened?"

She just gazed at him, her emerald orbs clouded with hurt and embarrassment. Jak stepped towards her, but she retreated backwards. "Jak," she stated feebly. Thankfully, she was saved of having to think of what to say by the return of Torn and Daxter.

Torn, purposefully ignoring the other man, snapped open the plastic box and extracted hydrogen peroxide, cotton swabs, and some large bandages. "This'll sting, so hold still," he warned. Keira sat down on the stool and shut her eyes. Torn dabbed carefully at the open wound, ignoring her as she hissed in pain. He then proceeded to bandage the split skin.

An unnoticed blush spread over the aqua-haired mechanic's cheeks; Torn's face was quite close to hers, and she could feel the warm whisper of his breath tickling her jaw line. It wasn't because of Torn _himself,_but because it was an awkward situation to be in; yes, that's it, Keira told herself stoutly.

Jak stood uncomfortably nearby, unsure of what he should be doing. It somehow felt wrong to him that Torn should be the one bandaging Keira instead of him. After all, he (Jak) cared for her more than the grouchy Commander, right? He didn't want to say anything, though; it wasn't _that _big of a deal.

But why was it bothering him so much?

'_**Maybe because**_**Torn **_**was the one who followed her, making sure she was safe…and he saved her, too,'**_came a sinister whisper from the back of his mind. _**'You can save the world, but you can't even take care of Keira…ha. How pathetic.'**_

'…_Shut up.' _

'_**You know it's true…'**_

'…_It's not.'_

'_**But it is! And besides, does it even matter? After all, Ashelin is your priority now. Keira is a thing of the past.' **_

'_That's _not_true!! Not at all.' _Jak winced. He didn't want to think about Keira being a "thing of the past". He still cared deeply for her…had he made the right decisions?

'_**Uh oh…here comes the self-doubt.' **_

Damn. Why did it have to be so mocking?

'_**Of course you made the right decision. Ashelin's got a bigger rack, or have you forgotten?'**_

…No. Was that _really_what he had been thinking when he chose Ashelin over Keira?

Argh! Of course not! He wasn't like Daxter. That would just be awful.

'_**IT'S TRUE; you know it.' **_

"I said, 'SHUT UP!'" Damn. Was he going insane?

Jak took a deep breath.

Torn and Keira were staring at him oddly. "Are you alright?" Torn asked coldly. Jak blinked. Had he just said that…out loud?

"I'm fine," he grunted, the tips of his slender ears tinged pink with embarrassment. Torn turned away from him again, sealing the last bandage.

"There," he said. "It should be fine for now." Keira nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, Torn," she smiled gently at him. She really was surprised at how caring he actually was. Her first impression of him was that he was a grouchy jerk who couldn't be bothered by anybody else's problems. But first impressions were often wrong, right?

Okay, well, he _was_ grouchy, but you couldn't really blame him. She herself had been acting uncharacteristically pissy ever since…the man standing before her…had…dropped her for a sexy woman he hardly knew. It hurt, but Torn was also on the receiving end of it.

"Yeah, sure," he replied. Keira yawned. The adrenaline had worn off, and her eyelids were drooping again. "Do you want to go back home now? I can escort you," he offered. Torn decided that after what had just happened, his duty required that he at least keep an eye on her departure.

Keira blushed again. "I…uh, I lost my house key, remember?" She felt like she was causing a lot of trouble for him. Maybe she would be relieved if he just left, like she expected him to.

Torn sighed. "Don't you have a spare?"

"It's at home," she mumbled.

'_How helpful,'_Torn thought sarcastically. "You could stay at the old Underground HQ; there's still some beds there," he suggested. "Then we could call the locksmith tomorrow."

Jak's eyes widened. Keira staying with Torn? No way. He finally spoke up. "She could always stay in one of the rooms at the Palace." He himself was staying there with Ashelin.

Torn sneered. "That would be the General's decision," he stated icily. The two men glared at each other angrily. Keira slumped on the bar stool and sighed in exhaustion.

Daxter, who had taken interest in the conversation again, proposed a third option. "There's a small room in the back," he announced loudly (as always). Relief flooded Keira.

"Oh, thanks a lot, Daxter. I think I'll stay there for the night," she said quickly. The tension was starting to get to her. "Thanks Torn, and…Jak."

Torn nodded. "Take care of yourself," he said curtly. He then walked off into the still-partying mass of people to the door. Keira smiled faintly, but it promptly slid off her face at the arrival of a certain redhead.

Ashelin's face showed a slight surprise at Keira's bandaged face, but soon after her expressions were quickly masked. "Hello, Keira. I see you've been injured. How unfortunate," she remarked in a coolly polite tone. Keira scowled, then flinched from the pain. "Jak and I should be going now; it's getting late. Bye." Ashelin grabbed Jak by the arm and dragged him off. Jak turned his head back to Keira, looking in to her brilliant green eyes with his enigmatic cerulean ones. They held an almost pleading expression.

Keira just smirked at him sardonically. _'I hope you're having fun being bossed around by your girlfriend,' _she thought sourly. Daxter tapped her on her shoulder.

"You ready to see your room?" he asked merrily. Keira nodded, and the furry ottsel lead her off to a cramped, dimly lit space at the back of the bar. A saggy mattress lay in the corner beside a small wooden set of drawers. "It's not much, but it's only for the night," he admitted.

"Thanks so much, Daxter," she said. At least the mattress was clean!

"The bathroom's by the bar outside, and if you need anything, just shout, 'kay?" He then scampered off, closing the door behind her. The mechanic immediately flopped onto the mattress unceremoniously and fell asleep.

* * *

Later that night, Jak lay awake in his room at the Palace. He stared at the ceiling, unable to find sleep. A sliver of moonlight fell onto the sheets through a gap between the curtains. The air was unnervingly still quiet, as if it was encouraging paranoid thoughts.

Fears plagued Jak that Keira would find somebody else.

Seeing Torn so close to Keira had awakened the idea that the mechanic might just forget about him. He had been living an almost dream-like relationship with Ashelin; he got all the enjoyment and satisfaction of being with her, but until now, the consequences of "leaving" Keira hadn't existed.

He put "leaving" in quotes because in his mind, he hadn't _really _left her. He had never said anything to her. And…he still loved her, didn't he?

But if Jak still loved Keira but was with Ashelin, did he love Ashelin?

'_**Boobs!!!'**_came that damn obnoxious voice. But its crude mocking of him really opened his eyes.

"Shit," Jak cursed out loud. "That's _not _how it is, okay?!" He wished with all his might that the voice- what was it, anyway? Was it the dark eco voicing its opinion? Ha. He had to laugh. That was a ridiculous idea. But the darkness had integrated itself as a part of him…

Maybe he was just_attracted _to Ashelin. Maybe he _loved _Keira, but was merely _attracted _to Ashelin. Rrrgh. Why did it have to be so confusing?

'_**It's not confusing. Maybe it's just…inconvenient…' **_

Jak grimaced. The voice always sounded so…pleased, in a sadistic sort of way. But regardless of its tone, its words held truth, unfortunately.

"Okay, it's inconvenient, but it's not something that I can't undo," he whispered, trying to convince himself. "So I've made a mistake. But it's not too late for Keira and me to restart our relationship."

'_But what about Torn…?' _he thought worriedly. This mess wouldn't be half as big if Tattooed Wonder hadn't entered the picture…

Wait. Keira and Torn hadn't seemed _that _close. He was blowing things way out of proportion. If he could stop any possible budding relationship between the two, everything could be saved. This time, Jak would make the right decisions. He would patch everything up neatly, and it would be like this mistake never happened.

Unfortunately, "patching things up" required him to break up with Ashelin.

Jak cringed. He could feel the bruises already.

* * *

Keira sat up straight on her limp mattress. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her tousled, glossy green hair. She had just awoken from a disconcerting dream. She couldn't quite remember what it was about, but she knew it was bad. She squinted through the darkness at the hands of the small dusty clock hanging on the wall.

3:19 A.M.; still too early for her. Even worse, she could still hear loud voices from the dance floor and the pulsating vibrations of music. Keira groaned. People were _still _partying? Did Daxter's bar_ever _close?

She let herself fall back onto the mattress. She stared up at the dark wooden ceiling and then closed her eyes. As tired as she was, she just couldn't fall asleep. She mused about Jak and what he must be doing right now…

'_Wait,'_she scolded herself angrily, catching herself thinking about him again. _'What ABOUT him? He's probably sleeping right now. It's 3:19 in the morning!' _

She huffed and attempted to clear her thoughts. She felt a little empty inside, as if something vital had seeped out. She sat up, curled her knees up to her chest, and sighed miserably. It was so hard to be angry sometimes. _'I really do miss Jak,' _she thought sadly.

Keira sighed and stuffed the lumpy pillow over her head. The fabric held a faintly musty scent. _'What's the point in missing him? He's_never _going to come back to _me. _He has Ashelin after all, right? He's not interested in me. It's Ashelin now.' _

The mechanic glowered into the darkness. "Ashelin is such a scantily-clad bitch," she voiced out loud, but winced at the hate-filled sound of her voice. What was she becoming?

"Why do I hold this grudge against Ashelin?" she pondered. "Because she 'stole' Jak from me? It was Jak's decision. He has a brain of his own." He _could _have stayed with Keira, but instead he chose Ashelin. What did _that _tell her?

Keira crossed her arms. Fine. So be it. She and Jak were definitely over. It was something she simply had to accept. And there would be no more clinging to petty jealousy of Ashelin! Keira had her _own _life to live, one in which Jak and Ashelin no longer mattered.

'_Yep. That's right, Keira,' _she spoke to herself. _'Jak NO LONGER matters!!!' _

She took a minute to absorb that, then moaned loudly in defeat. "I can't!!" she whimpered. "He'll always matter to me, whatever happens."

Frustrated with herself for being such a wimp, she seized the pillow and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and smacked the floor with a light thump. It didn't have quite the stress-relieving effect she had hoped for. "This is so stupid!" she cried out. "Why is this so HARD? It's not like HE cares!!!" Ashamed of herself, she dissolved into bitter tears.

'_There must be something to keep me from feeling like this…living like this,' _she thought. For some reason, she thought of Torn. He had been caring towards her, at least compared to everybody else. She had sensed kindness in him. Keira liked him.

'_I don't like where this is going,' _she thought warningly. _'The last thing you need is for another guy to come break your heart.' _

But not all men were the same, right? Maybe…maybe…_maybe_ she should start showing interest in Torn and see what happens. _'…This is stupid. Torn was in love with Ashelin, remember? What would _I _be in comparison to _her? _Didn't what happened with Jak prove that enough?' _

Keira wallowed in self-pity for a moment. She felt so degraded. "I need to go to sleep now," she muttered. She got up, walked the short distance across the room, picked up the stupid lumpy pillow, went back to the mattress, lay down, and closed her eyes.

…And a pair of stunning blue eyes were waiting for her on the inside of her eyelids. Her eyes snapped open and she gritted her teeth. Why? Why did her heart betray her like this?

"Jak is_nothing _to me!!" she hissed. "…Oh, that really wasn't very convincing."

But were they really Jak's eyes?

* * *

**Thank you to those who showed their support by alerting or faving or reviewing. I won't abandon this story, even if it ever seems like I have. But if nobody's interested, then there's not much point in actually putting this fic up on the web, right? Hm… **


	3. Slipping away

**Hi! I know I haven't updated in nearly a year…but see, I saw this document on my computer and I was like, "what's this?" And it was part of the third chapter that I had written so long ago, and I remembered this story! And then I saw the reviews again and I felt bad about saying I wouldn't abandon it. I wonder if people still read Jak and Daxter fanfiction…anyway, I thought I'd put this up regardless, since there's probably still somebody out there who's interested in reading this! And if there is, I'll try and finish this story for them, because I already have some of the storyline thought up. Thank you to everybody who reviewed; I know I'm late, but I really appreciate you guys!**

* * *

Keira woke up feeling like a bag of garbage. At first she couldn't recognize where she was, but soon the memories came flooding back to her. She grimaced at the thought of the man who attacked her. The left side of her face still throbbed steadily with a painful pulse. 

Reluctantly, the mechanic sat up. Dark bags hung under her swollen eyes, her hair was tangled and snarled, and her injury felt damp and disgusting. Thankfully, Torn had done a good job and the wound was not infected. The bandages were soaked, though.

Blearily, she gazed up at the clock. In the gloom, she could barely make out the time: 9:53 A.M. Keira groaned; she hated starting the day late.

Mumbling complaints under her breath, she heaved herself off of the mattress. She was still wearing her street clothes, which by now felt slightly sticky._'I feel so dirty,' _she thought unhappily. The mechanic trudged off to the bathroom to go wash her face.

The green-haired woman passed through the bar on the way. A few people were _still _there, conversing drowsily in the booths. _'These people must never get any sleep! I'm curious as to how they stay alive, let alone sane,'_she mused.

She entered the bathroom, which consisted of a few cramped stalls, a dirty sink, a broken paper towel dispenser, an overturned garbage bin, and a dull mirror. The tiles were a grimy grey, and a flickering fluorescent bulb hung overhead. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she approached the mirror.

Keira shrieked and spun around.

There, in the mirror, had been some sort of grotesque, scary being. The frightened mechanic clutched where her heart was and sighed. Then she faced the dingy mirror again.

And it was there again! She gasped in surprise, then took a deep breath and squinted at it. The…the _thing_…squinted back. Suddenly, Keira recognized the creature's blue and green hair.

"Is…that…oh, Precursors. That's me…" she voiced out loud. She inhaled sharply. "I didn't realize that I looked as bad as I felt…" She sighed and then proceeded to carefully pry off the bloody bandages. She turned the garbage bin back on its proper base and disposed of the soiled wrappings. Then she dampened a paper towel and gently cleaned her face. A few clumps of clotted blood fell into the sink. "This is really gross," she muttered.

The mechanic finished up and walked out to the bar. Tess was cleaning glasses while Daxter was sitting on the bar, talking animatedly to an apparently bored tattooed man. Keira approached them, recognizing him.

"Hey babe! Did ya' sleep okay? The Tattooed Wonder came here looking for you!" yapped Daxter excitedly. Keira grinned.

"Good morning, Daxter! I slept fine, thanks," she lied. Then she turned to Torn, observing him curiously. "Hi Torn," she greeted, slightly uneasily.

"Hi," he replied. He held out a medium-sized black package with glowing crosses on the sides. "Here; it's green eco."

Keira blinked at it. She hardly saw green eco in Haven City; it wasn't used commonly except sometimes in hospitals and mostly by the Freedom League. She beamed at him. The green eco reminded her of her father, who she hadn't seen for a while. "Thank you," she said, a bit stunned by the fact that he had returned to bring it to her.

Torn nodded. "Go ahead and put it on; it should speed up your recovery fairly quickly." Daxter nudged Keira.

"Where's the shriveled old green guy?" he asked. "Shouldn't he be looking out for his daughter?" He placed his paws on his hips in mock disapproval.

Keira shrugged. "He went somewhere outside of Haven to go do some important stuff with the plant life there," she responded. For some reason, Daxter started sniggering. Though annoyed, she ignored him and placed the box against her temple. The green eco immediately seeped into her wound upon contact. She exhaled in relief as the nagging pain lessened to a dull ache.

Torn stared in surprise. "Wow, it reacted quickly with you," he noted. "It doesn't usually work that fast."

Daxter, who by then was in hysterics, pulled himself out of his laughter. "Well, in case you didn't know," he announced, "this girl Keira is the daughter of a Green Eco Sage! I suspect her mother was a plant, though. Old Greenie always did have a suspicious interest in flora," he told Torn conspiratorially. "That would explain the green in her hair. It's 100 percent natural chlorophyll!"

Keira smacked him lightly. "Shut up, Daxter! Don't say things like that about Daddy!" She pouted. Torn averted his eyes. It was unnervingly endearing.

"A Green Eco Sage?" he inquired.

Daxter nodded his head like a bobble-head doll. "Yep, back in the past me, Jak, and Keira lived in a boring old village called Sandover." Keira jumped slightly at the mention of Jak's name. "The Wrinkly Old Green Bean would always yell and whack his cane and blabber about his precious plants. He's also Keira's father. You couldn't have guessed, huh?"

Torn eyed the ottsel skeptically and then turned to Keira. "Is this B.S.?" he asked her. Keira shook her head, momentarily dazzled by vivid memories.

"Nope!" Daxter confirmed. "It was a scenic place, I suppose, but full of old people. Not enough hot chicks. Lots of beach, little round, shingled huts, and tiny wooden fishing docks. Oh, and herds of smelly yakkows, too. Old Farmer Zeb would always make me an' Jak go round them up for him, right Keira?"

Keira nodded nostalgically. "I miss Sandover, Daxter…it was so beautiful there. I was happy."

Torn shook his head in disbelief. For the life of him, he simply couldn't imagine Jak and Daxter living out in the country, herding yakkows for some farmer by the beach. That was just…too weird for him. But Keira, he could maybe picture her living there…

"Yeah, but Haven City is so much more exciting! I mean, this is the place to _be_!! What, would you rather be in your little room beneath that rickety old windmill when you could be _here,_ where there's booze, action, and hot chicks?" Daxter asked pointedly.

Keira looked surprised at the question. "Of course I would!" Daxter stared at her, eyes wide and incredulous. Torn just stayed quiet. There was a familiar feeling underlying Daxter's description of that old village, yet he couldn't quite place why.

"_Whaaat?"_ Daxter practically screamed. "But WHY?"

Keira sighed. "It's my home. And unlike you, I actually miss it."

Torn eventually stopped listening as Daxter and Keira went back and forth about why one place was better than the other. He was deep in thought, struggling to place that gnawing recognition…

'_Dead Town,' _he finally realized.

"Rat," he began, addressing Daxter. "Is Sandover…is it Dead Town?"

Daxter stood up. "Yeah, you got it. It's pretty nasty looking now, huh? Everything's rotting and falling apa-"

"-Wait, _what?_" Keira interrupted. "Dead Town…is…Sandover?" she asked bewilderedly. "Why didn't anybody TELL me this!? It's not like I go out there!"

Daxter shrugged. "I guess we forgot to tell you. Jak and I figured it out when we went on a mission there. You probably wouldn't want to see it anyway. It's all run-down and-"

Once again, Keira cut him off. "Don't you understand how _important _this is? Sandover was just beyond the city walls all this time and I didn't even have a _clue?_!" she spluttered.

Daxter shrugged once again. "I suppose you could put it that way, yeah." Keira barely resisted the urge to throttle him.

"Can you take me there?" she asked Torn breathlessly. Torn was silent while he considered it for an excruciatingly long moment.

"I guess it's relatively safe now…no more Metal Heads…but the structures aren't stable…"

Keira twitched. "Just take me there!!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm in excitement.

* * *

Jak walked quietly down the carpeted palace hallway, on his way to Ashelin's office. He felt as if each step was bringing him closer to his death sentence. 

What should he say? He rehearsed possibilities in his head: _"Ashelin…I need to talk with you. I don't think things are working out between us."_ No, that wasn't right. _"Ashelin, it's not that I don't care for you, but I think it's time we go our separate ways."_No…that didn't sound right either._ "Ashelin, I-"_

Suddenly, his head banged into the wooden door. Before he knew it, he had arrived already. A faint blossoming of panic began in the pit of his stomach; he swallowed with difficulty. His fist trembling ever so slightly, he knocked lightly on her door.

"Yes?" came Ashelin's muffled voice.

Jak fidgeted. "It's me," he called back.

"Oh!" Jak felt guilt creep upon him as he heard the smile in her voice. "Come on in."

The door swung open silently on greased hinges, and he stepped forward. Butterflies erupted within him as he watched her gorgeous figure slide sinuously from the chair and move towards him.

"Hey," she whispered, her sultry voice leaving her plump lips. She pressed her body against his chest. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Um…" Jak leaned back as far as he could without falling over. Ashelin frowned.

"What is it?" Her tone was worried.

"I slept…um, I slept fine," he lied awkwardly. "Listen…Ashelin, I need to talk with you…do you want to sit down?"

Ashelin's green eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion. Then her features were quickly masked. "Alright." She seated herself behind her desk, folding her hands neatly. "What is it?" she repeated.

Jak took a deep breath. Why was it that he could take down beastly metal heads without missing a beat, yet breaking up with Ashelin was turning his mind inside out? _'Focus,'_ he commanded himself. _'How were you going to tell her?' _"Er…I'm not quite sure how to say this, but-"

Ashelin interrupted. "Jak, is this about last night? I didn't mean to drag you away like that; it was just really late, and I-"

"No, it's not that!" he said quickly. Great, they had barely started and already they were talking over each other. "It's just…I was thinking, maybe we'd be better as friends again."

There was a deathly silence. The small metal clock on Ashelin's desk ticked steadily.

"What?" Ashelin's voice broke, but she regained her composure. "Jak, what are you talking about? What did I- what do you mean?" Jak looked at his lap, at the clock, at the tree outside the window, at Ashelin's hands; anything but her face. "Is this about Keira?" she hissed. Jak's eyes widened in surprise. "…It is, isn't it! You want to break up with me over her? Have you been seeing her? You've been cheating on me, haven't you?"

"What?! No! Ashelin, listen to me for a second-"

"Jak. You know what? I like you a lot. But I don't understand how you could be doing this…I've been there for you, and now you're ditching me for some mechanic girl? I honestly don't know what to say…this is just…very disappointing."

Jak groaned inwardly. "She's not just 'some mechanic girl', she's my friend and I-"

"And I'm NOT your friend?"

"That's not what I mean, what-"

"Then explain why you want to break up with me!"

"Ashelin, I appreciate that you've been there for me, and I really do like you, but-"

"But _what_?" Her eyes glittered dangerously.

"But I'm not truly ready for a relationship with you! At least not on this level."

There was another unbearably silent moment. Jak stared emptily at the clock. Ashelin scrutinized his face.

"You're lying," she concluded softly.

"Wha-"

"Tell me the truth. It's about Keira, isn't it? I'm not a fool, Jak! Why do you have to lie?!"

Jak felt as if Ashelin's office was collapsing onto him. "I…Ashelin…please."

"Please what? _How could you fuck me over like this_?"

He winced. It was going so terribly wrong.

"Get out," she said coldly. Jak stared blankly. "I SAID, get OUT." He raised himself from the chair and headed for the door. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Ashelin…I didn't want to hurt you," he told her regretfully.

The woman's lip curled. "Save your bullshit for the mechanic."

* * *

Keira's heart raced erratically. She and Torn were standing before the door in the city wall. The gears shifted agonizingly slowly, and the dull grinding noise was like the flood of memories filling her mind. Excitedly, her fingers grasped at Torn's hand. The tattooed man's blue eyes widened in shock, and his hand shot away as if it had brushed against a burning stove. Keira rolled her eyes, but she was too thrilled to be exasperated by him. 

Torn coughed uncomfortably. "Are you sure you want to go to Dead Town?" he asked. He watched the girl beside him cross her arms stubbornly. Amazingly, her face had nearly completely healed; she really did channel green eco abnormally well.

"For the last time, yes!!"

"Do you even know what to expect? I don't think you'll be very-" Torn's voice was drowned out by loud noise of the door screeching open. Keira rushed out, but Torn grabbed the back of her shirt.

"Stop running around like a little kid!" he growled. "It's not safe out here; there's all sorts of dangerous creatures."

"I am not acting like a little kid!" she snapped crossly. "But I suppose I can't expect you to understand something like this anyway."

Torn glowered at her. "It's this way," he muttered, leading her over a rickety wooden bridge. Keira followed him into the murky swamp.

* * *

Jak was furious. 

After his abrupt breakup with the Governess, he had taken a drive around the city. Much to his surprise, he had caught a glimpse of blue-green hair in a blue-painted Hellkat off in the distance. Knowing that there was only one person it could be, he quickly pursued it. He needed to know why Keira was in a Freedom League vehicle; had she been arrested?

Staying a certain distance behind the Hellkat, he realized that it was indeed Keira who was in the passenger seat. He also realized that it was Torn driving.

Why the hell was Keira with Torn?! She hardly knew him, right? Hadn't Jak seen him leave the bar without her? What was going on?

Trailing them throughout the congested streets, he saw them park near the city wall. Keira and Torn got out and walked towards the doorway leading outside of the city.

Jak hovered there, observing them with narrowed eyes. Why was Torn taking her there? It was unsafe, and he was putting her at risk. What did he think he was doing?!

He started in surprise as a horn blared behind him. He felt excessively irritated, despite the fact that HE was the one holding up traffic. Jak got out of the way and continued to watch the commander and the mechanic. He squinted…did Keira just try and hold Torn's hand?! He shook his head; no, he must have imagined it…or had he? Jak glared jealously at Torn. He had no place driving Keira around and taking her outside of the city.

Jak hopped out of his zoomer as Torn and Keira exited through the large metal door. He sprinted over and attempted to open it again, but it was stuck. The rusty old gears jammed and wouldn't budge. Jak slammed his fist at it, breathing heavily. What were they doing?

Suddenly, it came to him. They must be heading for Dead Town. Jak gritted his teeth as he realized that Torn would be the one to show Keira; not him. Frantically, he grasped at the frozen gears until his fingers started to bleed. How could he have forgotten?

* * *

"There it is." 

Keira stood there, silenced by a hurricane of emotions. The broken windmill creaked softly in the breeze, and planks from the dilapidated stairs littered the dirt below. Many of the shingles had fallen off as well. The entire building was darkened from age and abuse; it was a sad shell of what it had once been. Driven by a rising sense of panic, she sprinted towards the lower room…_her_ room.

Torn stayed behind, watching her. He sighed; he knew that taking her was a bad idea, but she was so persistent. He waited impatiently, listening to the faint sound of rummaging. His tattooed ears twitched as he heard the awful sound of…sobbing?

The Commander grumbled under his breath and followed her in. An old bed was in the corner of the small room, its mattress ripped by passing creatures. Rusted pieces of metal littered the ground; they appeared to be from a zoomer. He stopped at the sight of Keira kneeling on the dirty floor in front of an ancient-looking set of drawers. She was hunched over a small piece of metal, a muffled sob escaping her lips. "Keira…" he began softly. But he was lost for words.

She turned around; her eyes were damp and a faint smile was on her lips. "Look," she whispered, holding out the stick of shiny metal. "It's my old wrench...it didn't get rusty because I…I kept it in its special case…"

Torn looked away uncomfortably. He was terrible at comforting people. Keira didn't seem to mind, as she pocketed the wrench and continued to pick through the contents of the wooden drawer. Suddenly, she gasped loudly.

Torn's hand snapped instinctively to his gun. "What is it?"

"It's a photo album!" she cried out, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Torn couldn't help but smile a bit. This was the strangest thing he had experienced in a while. Keira carefully flipped through the book, her glistening green eyes absorbing the images on the water-stained pages. "Here's Jak and Daxter!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking. Torn crouched beside her to see.

Torn stared. "You're kidding me." He supposed the blonde boy did look strikingly similar to Jak, if not much younger and innocent. But the grinning buck-toothed boy next to Jak was definitely not Daxter. He wasn't even an animal!

"No, that's really them! Daxter used to be a regular boy, but he fell into a vat of dark eco and lived…but as you can see, he's an ottsel now."

Torn shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't wrap his mind around it at the moment. Keira turned to another faded photograph. "I wish I had taken more pictures," she whispered to herself. "But cameras were new technology, and it was expensive..." He craned his neck forward to see the new picture. It was of Keira, sitting on the edge of a little stone fountain. Turning his head to look back out the doorway, Torn could recognize the same fountain in the distance. He shuddered. He decided that he hated all of this freaky time warp business.

Following Torn's gaze, Keira spotted the fountain as well. Losing most of her self-control, she began to weep unrestrainedly. "This isn't real…" she moaned. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder in a feeble attempt to console her.

"I think we should head back now; it's getting late. Are you done here?" he inquired, peering warily into the darkening evening. She nodded, carefully placing the wrench and album into her bag and taking one last look around her childhood room.

Once outside, Keira couldn't resist turning around to stare at the hut again. Wiping her damp eyes, she seated herself on a grimy wooden platform sticking up from the mud.

Torn opened his mouth. "Hey, I don't think that's safe to-"

_CRASH._

Keira sat among the splintered planks, too momentarily shocked to get up. She couldn't help but grin a bit; at what, she wasn't quite sure. There wasn't anything funny on her mind. Torn grinned back and she laughed. For a reason unknown to herself, she couldn't stop until she began to cough violently. Her tattooed companion gave her a slightly exasperated look and held out a hand to help her up. Keira grabbed his wrist, and the tug he gave caused her to stumble.

Keira looked up at his vaguely surprised face; she was uncomfortably close. The moist air was still and silent except for the nearby sound of rustling of swamp grasses, and the noise of their ragged breathing seemed deafening. Seconds felt like minutes, but neither of them leaned away. For that awkward moment, time was frozen.

She swallowed nervously. "Torn…thank you," she whispered hoarsely. He nodded self-consciously. Why was he feeling embarrassed around this silly girl? He didn't care what she thought. Well, he _shouldn't_, at least. And why did she have to stick her face so close to his?! Personal space, didn't she know what that was?

Just as that familiar, irritable scowl began to cross his tattooed features, he sensed her tilting towards him. Panic erupted in his thumping chest as her lips brushed against his own unmoving ones.

Torn's brain froze. He couldn't think to move away; all of his muscles were tensed and unsure. His defensive ill-tempered attitude was quickly melting away.

Keira's heart slammed erratically within her ribcage. She could read the fear clearly in Torn's blue eyes, and a hot flush crept up her cheeks. "Sorry!" she murmured quickly, stepping back. "I, um…I didn't…er…"

He took a shaky breath and regained his composure. "Nevermind," he said, hoping she wouldn't hear the uncertainty in his voice. "We need to get back to the city…it's too late to be out in Dead Town." She nodded and began to follow him down the path they came.

Suddenly, her ears pricked as she heard the grass rustle behind her. She spun around, her eyes searching out the source of the disturbance.

Nothing was there; just dilapidated structures, swampy islands, and weeds. It must have just been the wind…except that there was no wind. Keira furrowed her brow in confusion, holding her breath and listening intently.

Torn turned towards her. "What is it?"

Keira shook her head. "It's…nothing. I thought I heard something behind us, but I must have imagined it."

He grunted in response. "Come on, we're almost there."

She stayed close behind him, enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from his body. Keira fingered the wrench in her pocket warily, occasionally glancing back into the murky gloom. _'There's nothing there, stop being so afraid,' _she told herself sternly. After all, there had been neither a single creature nor metal head in sight.

And of course, there was no reason for anybody to be following them.

* * *

**A/N: That's the end of chapter 3! Should I continue onto the 4****th**** chapter? Please tell me what you think, I'm curious!**


	4. Confrontations

**Hey! So I know it's been a looong time, but it's awesome to me that some people are still reading this! So I'm going to pick this story up again, and if you're interested, let me know what you think! Thank you all for your reviews, they are very motivational! (Ack stay away bear! D:)**

* * *

Jak couldn't believe it.

He couldn't believe that he had just seen Keira _kiss_ Torn! Nothing made sense anymore! The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. When had this all begun? Or was it just now beginning, right before his eyes?

After banging uselessly at the unyielding gate, Jak had unjammed the stubborn gears with a few well-placed blaster shots. It had been about ten minutes since Torn and Keira had gone through, but tracking them wasn't a problem. After all, he knew exactly where they were going…

He had sprinted over the swampy terrain, fast and silent from his many missions in the area. Two pairs of footprints formed a trail of mushy indentations in the sticky mud, tracking through clusters of grayish swamp weeds and over rotting wooden bridges.

Jak halted at the nearby sound of voices. He backed up against a dilapidated stone wall, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead in the moist, warm evening air.

His slender ears pricked slightly as they strained to make out the words…

"Look…it's my old wrench…"

Keira's voice was frail with emotion. Jak grimaced slightly at the sound of her sadness. It took all he had not to run out to her and explain why he hadn't shown her Dead Town earlier, to tell her he was sorry…

'**Well? Why didn't you? Why didn't you show her?' **came that tormenting voice, always present in the back of his mind.

'_I was going to.'_

'**You're a liar. Why don't you just admit that you didn't care!' **

Jak took a deep breath, slowly dragging his fingers through his short blond hair. He did care. But…to be honest with himself, he had stopped thinking about Keira for a while. They had been apart for weeks at a time, and naturally one begins to forget what they do not see.

However, he was pulled from his thoughts by a violent crash that boomed through the darkness. Instinctively, Jak grabbed his morph gun and peered behind the wall.

It seemed that Keira had fallen onto a piece of decayed wood, and Torn was helping her up. And then….

Jak knew what he saw. And he couldn't believe it.

Hot blood pounded in his ears, rushing like a stream of eco. His milky knuckles clenched over the edge of the stone; small chunks of dirt and pebbles broke off beneath his rough fingernails.

The pair exchanged a few more words before leaving, but Jak heard none of it. His mind was overwhelmed with confusion, anger, and jealousy. First it had been Torn interfering at the party…then it had been with the bandages…then Keira was standing so close to him…and now, now she had kissed him!

She had kissed him! Keira had kissed Torn!

And here was Jak, skulking around behind an old wall, watching helplessly as the girl he loved—yes, loved, he was sure of it—was being taken away by some cranky Freedom League soldier.

"Damnit!" he hissed, venting his frustration by viciously kicking at a clump of swamp grass, which flew several feet and landed noisily with a spray of dirt.

"I thought I heard something behind us…" came Keira's voice.

Jak cursed under his breath, ducking farther back behind his shelter. He hated creeping around like this, as if he was some kind of sneaking swamp rat. But first thing tomorrow, he would go to Keira's apartment and have a talk with her. After all, a kiss with Torn was just a kiss. The tattooed Commander could never replace the bond that Jak and Keira had shared.

* * *

A trickle of pale grey morning light filtered in through the dirty window of The Naughty Ottsel's spare room. Keira awoke to the steady rumble of zoomer traffic and the soft sloshing of the nearby port. She stretched luxuriously, disentangling herself from the thin cotton sheets. Memories of last evening came back to her in a sudden flood.

Dead Town…._Sandover_, her old room, her favorite wrench, her treasured photo album. It all seemed like a dream.

Her heart suddenly pounding, Keira grabbed her bag from the side of the bed, half expecting it to be empty. But sure enough, there was her wrench, as well as the faded old photos bound up in yakkow hide.

The mechanic's slender fingers trembled as she slowly turned each wrinkled page, images from a carefree past smiling up at her with all their beauty. Her heart ached as her eyes met those of her old self, standing next to a much younger Jak. One of her hands was held up to block the glare of the tropical sun, while the other was entwined with his. Jak's cerulean eyes gazed into the camera, a mysterious smile on his lips.

Jak was so handsome… Keira sighed, shutting the album and placing it back in her bag. It did her no good to mourn for happier times.

Speaking of Jak, why hadn't he even mentioned Dead Town being Sandover? She felt confused, as well as a little hurt. She could understand Daxter not bothering to say anything, but Jak? _'Well, I'm sure he forgot all about me!' _she thought bitterly. _'It's obvious that he never thinks about me anymore. I'm sure he's up in the palace right now, smooching the Governor….hmph!' _

At least she had found somebody who could take her there…Torn. Keira groaned as she remembered what had happened between them. _'Precursors, what possessed me to kiss him like that?!' _she thought, pressing her hands against her burning cheeks. _'He was kind enough to take time off of his duty to show me Sandover…and I went and made things awkward for him! Argh!' _

And Torn was coming again this morning to help her with the locksmith. Keira moaned quietly in embarrassment, her fingers sliding up her temples to rest in her locks of aqua hair. Part of her was afraid of what the tattooed man thought of her, but the other part was glad that she would be seeing him again.

* * *

Keira exhaled in relief as the lock clicked and the door swung open to her apartment. She thanked the locksmith, and he left after collecting his payment.

"Remember, Miss, it's a good idea to have a spare made. Sometimes I can't come help right away, so you could get stuck for a few days again!" he told her sternly, before clambering into his vehicle and driving off in a cloud of smelly exhaust.

Torn sighed. He was standing off to the side, arms crossed. "I guess that takes care of that," he said.

"Yeah…" Keira replied softly. "Listen Torn, I…I just want to say that I'm really grateful for all your help."

Thankfully, he hadn't acted much differently towards her today. It seemed as if he refused to acknowledge anything about their kiss, and Keira was more than glad to go along with him.

He nodded, his eyes cast towards his boots. "I don't start duty today until noon, so it's no problem."

"Oh…"

An awkward pause followed. Throughout the morning, there had been a noticeable amount of tension between them. Whenever they would accidentally brush against each other, Torn would flinch away as if he had been burnt; he would avert his eyes and the tips of his ears would begin to turn reddish. Keira pretended not to notice, but his discomfort was contagious.

Torn cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess I'll be going now. Take care of yourself, Keira."

"Uh, wait!" she exclaimed, just as he began to pick up his helmet. He turned towards her, eyebrows raised. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Do you, do you want to come in for a bit? I mean, if you don't have anywhere to be going right now…"

Torn hesitated, taken by surprise. Then he shrugged. "Sure, why not. I've got nowhere to be anyway."

* * *

He didn't know how long he had been sitting at her table, just talking and drinking tea. It was weird for him, but at the same time he felt strangely contented. Commander Torn was a man who lived a life of speed and the harshness of battle; he had little spare time to stop and enjoy insignificant little pleasures, and when he did it was only a few drinks with his men…certainly not _sipping tea and chatting with a girl. _

But here he was, and though he was loath to admit it, maybe he was enjoying himself just a little.

Torn listened intently as Keira spoke dreamily of her past life in Sandover. He couldn't help but be fascinated by the thought of Dead Town once being a charming village of sunshine and palm trees, and the story of two siblings driven insane by the power of dark eco.

The small room was comfortably warm. A diminutive wooden table sat in the middle surrounded by three rickety chairs, two of which were currently occupied. Shelves lined most of the walls, and they held countless metal trinkets and machine parts. The room was also scattered with mechanical blueprints.

Torn's head buzzed pleasantly as he watched the steam drift slowly from the spout of Keira's chipped floral teapot. Her voice was soothing, and she absentmindedly ran her fingers across the smooth edge of the table as she spoke. Her innocent green eyes were far off, her pretty pink lips curled into a gentle smile.

He knew he was staring, but she didn't seem to notice. However, his trance was broken by a sudden question.

"I'm sorry…I've just been talking and talking nonstop about Sandover! You must be bored." She laughed in embarrassment. "How about you? You've lived in Haven City your entire life, haven't you?"

Torn was silent. He hated to talk about his past, even more so when people asked him about it. "Yeah," was his only reply. He swished the tea around in his cup distractedly.

A zoomer's engine sounded in the distance, and the room was quiet once more.

Torn looked up, and his pale blue eyes widened. Keira's hand was slowly reaching across the table…he blinked, taken by surprise. He stayed frozen as her cool fingertips brushed against his cheekbone.

"Right over your eye," she murmured, examining his geometric tattoos. "That must have hurt…"

He swallowed, then brought his own hand up and gently but firmly clasped her delicate wrist. He held her curious gaze in his own as he guided her hand back down to the table.

Keira watched in uncertainty as Torn stood up, his chair making a loud scraping noise in the process.

"I have to go now," he told her gruffly.

"Huh?" she asked in bewilderment, looking up at him with wide green eyes. "Uh, okay…and, um, I'm sorry…" she trailed off, not quite sure what exactly she was apologizing for. Asking about his past? Commenting on his tattoo? Touching his face?

"No. Don't apologize," he responded, maybe too harshly. Why was his heart pounding in his chest like that? He was sure she could hear it in the silence of the room. Must have been something in that damn tea.

But when she had brushed her fingers against his face, it had felt like a current of electricity. It took him by surprise; it wasn't exactly a bad feeling, but it was unsettling. He didn't understand what was happening, and Torn didn't like it when he didn't understand. He had to go.

"Maybe I'll see you around," he said as he headed towards the door. "And…don't let that bastard get you down."

The wooden door closed firmly behind him, shutting tightly with a click. Keira stared after it, the faint ache of disappointment in her chest.

* * *

Jak slammed on the brakes, his zoomer screeching to a halt before Keira's apartment. The cloudy morning cast a grey gloom over Haven City. He knew she was home; yellowish light shone through her patched curtains, and her slim zoomer was parked outside.

Jak narrowed his eyes. Next to Keira's zoomer was a blue Hellkat Cruiser….a Freedom League vehicle. What the hell was Torn doing here?!

Just as that very thought was crossing Jak's mind, the apartment door swung open. He glowered at the all-too-familiar figure. It was Torn, alright.

The tattooed man took a few steps, then stopped. What the hell was that blondie doing here?!

"Torn," Jak called out coldly. Torn strode up to him, fists clenched.

"What are you doing here?" he growled. Jak just glared.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Torn."

"Does Ashelin know you're here?" he sneered. "Shouldn't you be at the palace with your girlfriend?"

Jak crossed his arms. The hostility emanating from Torn was unmistakable. "Not that it's any of your business, but we broke up," he informed the other man coolly.

Torn's breath hitched. He thought he would have been pleased to hear that, but for some reason it made his blood boil. He could imagine how it went…Jak ditched Keira for Ashelin, Ashelin got bored with him and dumped him, and so here he was now, expecting to have his old girlfriend back. It was somehow utterly infuriating how Jak could be so offhand about it all. He didn't care about who he hurt, because it all came so fucking easy to him.

"You're a real asshole, you know that Jak?" he gritted out. "If you had any decency, you'd stay away from Keira. She doesn't want to have anything to do with a jerk like you."

Jak was taken aback, but he didn't show it. Instead, he scoffed. "You don't know what you're talking about, Torn. And I'm warning you, you'd better stop hanging around Keira. I don't know why you're doing this, but you'd better stop."

"Oh yeah, Jak? Or what? Don't tell me what to do! I'll talk to whoever I damn well want to!" Torn snarled, jabbing a finger against Jak's chest.

Jak only glared and shouldered past him. "Just stay away from her, okay?!" he hissed, making his way towards Keira's front door.

Torn stood, locked in place by his rage. Shoulders taught and fingers clenched, he glowered darkly after the retreating blonde man. To Torn, Jak's words were an open invitation.

Keira was washing the china cups when she heard a knock on her door. She felt a sudden rush of anticipation; had Torn come back to say something to her? Keira felt as if there was something he had wanted to tell her, but an unknown reason kept him silent and distant.

"Yes?" she called, peering through the peephole, just in case.

Her heart clenched when she glimpsed blonde hair and blue eyes. She quickly turned around, her back pressed against the door.

"It's me…Jak."

Keira was silent. The bridge of her nose prickled, and she could feel hot tears beginning to well up.

"I'm, uh, glad to see you got back into your house, Keira…" he trailed off weakly. She swallowed thickly. It was hard to hear him say her name.

"Please just go away," came Keira's muffled reply.

"Come on Keira, let me in," he pleaded, jiggling the doorknob. "I just want to talk with you."

The aqua-haired mechanic pursed her lips, then slid the deadbolt in place. "I don't want to talk to you right now, okay Jak?! Leave me alone already!"

"Don't be this way, Keira! …Does this have to do with Torn?" he asked, beginning to feel upset.

She snorted. How dare he ask that? It was none of his business! "What, I can't even talk to someone without you marching over here and bothering me about it?!" she snapped angrily. "Don't you have more important matters to attend to, such as your precious General?"

"Huh. I should have known this was about Ashelin."

"What did you THINK it was about? You broke up with me, or did you forget already?!" she shouted, exasperated.

"Keira, I didn't!"

"…What the- you DID break up with me!!! What else do you call kissing Ashelin right in front of me?!" Keira rolled her eyes, dabbing at them with a tissue. "Idiot," she muttered.

"I didn't mean it, okay?" came his desperate voice. "Please Keira! There's nothing between Ashelin and me anymore, we're completely over! I made a mistake! I just….I just want to be with you again!"

He listened intently. There was a long silence, and a few snuffles.

"Please Keira…you mean so much to me."

He could hear sobbing, but the door didn't open for him. He sighed in frustration. He yearned to go in and wrap his arms around her, and be done with this whole sorry mess. Truthfully, he didn't expect his attempt to be so difficult.

"I'm asking you to leave, Jak! I can't deal with this right now."

Much to his dismay, Jak felt a heavy lump beginning to form in his throat. "Is that a 'no'?" he asked hoarsely.

"I don't know…just go away. I can't talk with you right now."

Jak slumped to his feet, leaning back against Keira's door. He sighed and draped his arms over his knees. He felt as if he were in an elevator that had just taken a sudden plunge.

She was being so difficult…but she was hurt, and rightfully so. But with patience and persistence, Jak knew Keira would come back to him. She was mad at him, but she hadn't said no. And she couldn't stay mad forever.

It was only a matter of waiting.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Please leave a review, and I shall continue onto chapter 5 (seriously, not in like a year from now…). Also, I'm curious: are people thinking Jak or Torn? But don't worry; there will be plenty of both. :) Hehehe**


	5. The Storm

**Hello again! Yes, this story is incredibly old, but I suddenly got the desire to finish up this chapter, which has been sitting on my computer for over a year. And yes, I was a dirty dirty liar when I said that about the update…ahem. Sorry, and I really appreciate all of you who took their time to read and review. Thanks, this is for you!**

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* * *

  
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The dim afternoon sky hung low over Haven, a heavy grey blanket tossed over the city. The dark clouds had begun to drizzle; zoomer traffic roared steadily over the pattering of rain in the gutters. A few soggy wrappers lay limply in the wet street.

The tattooed man waited at the stoplight, watching absentmindedly as the raindrops spattered on the hood of the blue Hellkat, then beaded up and rolled down the side of the smooth metal. He inhaled deeply, lost in thought; the cold musty air numbed his skin, but he took no notice.

At first, Torn had been fuming with rage….but now he felt a deep sense of confusion. He had expected to be pleased to hear of Jak and Ashelin breaking up; instead, he felt vaguely threatened. Sure, that blond idiot was tremendously undeserving of the glory that was Ashelin (in fact, a flea on the ass of a crocadog was more worthy than him), yet Torn was strangely unsatisfied.

Why did Jak, the selfish prick, have to go marching back over to Keira's apartment like that? The girl, however silly she was, didn't deserve to put up with the moron.

'_But more importantly, why do I even care??' _Torn thought. _'She's none of my business. I don't wanna deal with anyone's drama.'_

He recalled when he had met her on that stupid fence. She had been so stubborn, so maddeningly defiant, with that obnoxious green hair and those weird magenta pants. Any other citizen would have obeyed him, but she had rudely refused, much to his irritation.

Then she had been at the Naughty Ottsel, with her weepy eyes, scratchy voice, and quarrelsome attitude…

And then he had taken her to Dead Town, and it was even more weepiness. Torn despised weepy girls.

So what was it about her? What was appealing about Keira?

She was clearly nothing like Ashelin. She didn't have the red-haired governor's irresistibly badass personality, an enticingly leather-clad body, or that sexy, plump-lipped smirk. She didn't have huge breasts, tall boots, or a voice that purred.

But she did have something. Torn couldn't place a finger on it, but he knew it was there. It was in the charming way she smiled and pouted, in her wide green eyes, in her rebellious attitude.

He sighed. What was happening to him?

Since Ashelin, Torn had decided he wanted nothing more to do with women. Ever. He had been unpleasantly shocked by how much the loss of her had actually hurt him, and she had left him feeling humiliatingly vulnerable. Nothing could be worth that awful experience.

Yet now, just weeks later, he was already thinking about one again.

"Ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, rain dripping down his furrowed brow.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, and the light showers had developed into a full-blown storm. Wind shrieked through the tree outside the window, whipping it around mercilessly. The downpour pounded at the glass with a steady rhythm, forming rivulets that slid down in continuous streams. A bolt of thunder crashed in the distance, reverberating in the governor's office.

Ashelin threw her pen down in frustration, unable to concentrate on her stack of paperwork. It rattled loudly as it rolled along her wooden desk and clattered to the floor. She ground her teeth, unwilling to get up and retrieve it.

All day, the governor's blood had been boiling with thoughts of Jak. Or rather, Jak's rejection of her. In all her years, no man had ever turned down Ashelin Praxis. Men were hers, when she wanted, _if _she wanted. And they were done when _she _was done.

And then came Jak—straight to her, as all men predictably did. But all of a sudden, he decided that they were through. Ashelin had been caught unawares, and her pride could not tolerate that.

Even worse, he had lied to her about that mechanic. The same one that Torn had been hanging around lately.

Torn. She couldn't make a decision about him. They had drifted apart during the past few months or so, and besides, they were never officially together anyway. They had danced with each other that one time, and there was the obvious attraction between them, but Ashelin had never committed herself to the stoic commander. Yet she became highly annoyed when she saw Torn sitting with that mechanic at the bar.

Ashelin pursed her cherry lips, swiping a lock of red hair away from her tattooed forehead. She knew that the green-haired girl had resented her the moment they met; the governor would have had to be stupid to not notice. And Ashelin didn't care much for her either. If someone had a problem with her, then that was just too bad.

'_That girl doesn't know how Torn is, anyway,' _Ashelin thought darkly. _'He doesn't let just anyone into his personal life. But she'll find that out soon enough.'_

The redhead drummed her fingers, her hard nails clacking against the smooth wooden desk. If Torn wanted to come back to her, he was perfectly welcome. She wouldn't worry about it, though. He'd return eventually, like he always did.

* * *

"JAAAK!!!" Daxter screeched in exasperation, flinging his furry arms into the air. "That's not how you bring a lady back to you!"

The blond man sighed noisily, slamming his thick glass mug down onto the counter. "Yeah, Daxter?! Then how was I supposed to do it?!" he snapped.

The ottsel shook his head sadly, orange ears flopping side to side. "Man, do I gotta teach you everything? Well buddy, lucky for you, the Handsome Orange Sex God is here to pass on a few tips!" He puffed his fluffy chest out proudly.

Jak turned his head away, frowning at the other side of the bar. A few people were tucked away in the yakkow hide booths, chatting quietly and drinking as they waited for the storm to pass. Aside from them, the Naughty Ottsel was deserted.

"First of all," Daxter announced loudly, "you've gotta have more charm. Chicks just love a smooth guy; smooooth like my glossy fur!" He flexed an arm, pausing to stroke the fuzzy bicep.

Jak rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood for his friend's obnoxious "advice".

"Second, ya gotta be genuinely sorry--"

"--I _was _genuinely sorry--"

"--but not desperate! The babes don't like it when you're desperate!"

Jak ignored him, and took another swig of his beer.

"Jak!" exclaimed Daxter indignantly, crossing his skinny arms. "Are you listening?! This advice is pure gold! It's not often that the Babe Master himself shares his secrets!"

"…"

"I'll tell you what buddy, you're gonna thank me for this later. So as I was saying, you hafta have patience and persistence. Keep trying, but don't be annoying! That's the surest way to victory with a girl like Keira!"

"Don't be annoying, huh?" Jak repeated, slightly amused.

Daxter tilted his nose up. "HEY, I'm trying to help you out here! But if you don't wanna take my advice, then suit yourself, pal!" Offended, he hopped off the counter and began rummaging through a box of various bottles.

The blond-haired man grinned slightly. "C'mon, Dax, I was just kidding."

"Yeah yeah," the ottsel grumbled, grabbing a purple flask and leaping back onto the bar top. "Serves ya right anyway!" he declared, yanking out the cork with a loud pop. "You're not slick enough to get away with managing two ladies, especially when one is the _governor_! Even I, the great Orange Lightning, couldn't handle something like _that_!"

Jak raised his hands defensively. "I wasn't two-timing!" he insisted.

Daxter glugged noisily from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his paw. "Whatever ya say, Jak…whateeevvver ya say."

Creasing his brow, Jak ignored his companion's unconvinced comment. "I think I'm going to try talking to her again this evening. Maybe she'll have calmed down by then."

"Yeah, maybe! Good luck, pal!" Daxter resumed guzzling the strange fluid. "Say Jak, I'm not so sure if purple hair suits you…it's a bit too, shall we say, 'out there'. Perhaps that's why Keira rejected you…I do wonder…"

"Huh?!" replied Jak, bewildered. "Purple hair…?" Realization dawned on him. "Give me that," he sighed, snatching away Daxter's bottle.

"Hey hey HEY! Give it back, Jak!! Jaaaak!!!"

* * *

The rain splattered down, heavy and relentless. Frigid air penetrated the commander's armor, causing a shiver to run through his body. "Damn rainstorm," he growled, his warm breath fogging up his visor. The evening streets were devoid of people; everyone had taken shelter inside to escape the icy winds and drenching downpour. But not Torn. Patrol duty was patrol duty, rain or shine.

The fountains surrounding the racing district were overflowing with the excess liquid, and water cascaded over the sides like miniature waterfalls. Freezing gusts thrashed the shrubbery around violently.

Due to an oversight in the vehicle department, the Freedom League Hellkats had not been equipped with retractable roofs, unlike some of the old Krimzon Guard ones. This was normally not a problem, having it be that Haven rarely saw precipitation as extreme as the current storm. However, the weather was unusually bad today, and the upholstery fabric was soaked, as well as the unfortunate commander sitting inside.

"Damn rain!" he grumbled again miserably, the fabric of his clothes sopping wet beneath his plates of armor. "At least it won't be getting much worse."

**KSHPSHHKRKPINGKRKKKK**

"What the--!"

The Hellkat's engine sputtered to a halt, and the large vehicle sank like a rock. It struck the rain-slicked pavement nose-end first and skidded to a halt with a grinding crunch.

Shocked, Torn clambered out of the vehicle to examine the damage. It appeared fine, except for a wide dent and scrape in the blue paint. He attempted to start the ignition again; it spluttered pitifully, then died down with a wheezy whine. A vein throbbed in Torn's temple.

"Argh, I can't take this anymore!!" he snarled, striking the unresponsive Hellkat with his steel-capped boot.

"Stupid-" _kick_

"Piece-" _kick_

"Of-" _kick_

"Useless-" _kick_

"Junk!" _kick_

He took a deep breath, kneading his tattooed brow with a gloved hand. He supposed that if the Hellkat had to break down, the racing sector _was _a good place to do so…and if he was lucky, there might be an available mechanic to lend him a hand.

Torn sprinted through the torrents of rain until he entered the shelter of the stadium outskirts. He paced down the dark corridor, wringing the water out his gloves as he went. It seemed eerily abandoned, and the clunking of his boots reverberated loudly over the pattering of the rain outside. Posters of Jak, Haven's beloved undefeated racing champion, were pasted neatly along the walls. Torn's lip curled.

He turned the corner and was met with a flood of yellow light from an open garage. The scraping sound of metal against metal echoed throughout the room.

"Hey," he called out.

The mechanic was crouched over a strange contraption, apparently shaving off excess metal. Bright sparks flew outwards, creating shimmering reflections in the dark screen of her welding mask. She stopped what she was doing and removed her mask.

"Yeah, if you don't mind I'm a little—Torn?!" she exclaimed, her green eyes wide with astonishment.

"Huh—Keira?" Torn took a step back in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly patting down her disarrayed aqua hair.

"What are _you _doing here?" he echoed. It hadn't occurred to him that Keira would be here, though he did recall her mentioning an occupation as a mechanic… "Didn't you just get back into your apartment this morning?"

He looked around at the garage. The workbenches were cluttered with zoomers in need of repair, and various vehicle parts and pieces of scrap metal were strewn about the cement floor. A green moth-eaten curtain, patched up and ragged, was pushed to the side.

Keira shrugged. "Yeah, but work is work, right? I've got a lot of repairs to do!" she said, gesturing at the broken zoomers lined up in the back. She looked curiously at Torn, who was drenched from head to foot and had already created a rather large puddle on the garage floor. "Got caught in the storm, huh?" she remarked.

Torn grunted, heavy beads of water rolling off the tips of his ears.

"So what happened? Did your zoomer break down or something?" she asked.

"Yeah, right outside the stadium, conveniently enough. I hate to ask, but could you come out and take a look at it?"

Keira beamed. "Of course! It's the least I could do for you, after all. Just let me grab an umbrella real quick…"

Torn led her outside into the pouring rain. Keira unfurled her huge, battered umbrella; Torn was quite taller than her, so she raised it up to accommodate him. This allowed the slanted rain to blow beneath the cover and soak her, but she pretended not to notice. The tattooed man was simultaneously annoyed and appreciative.

"Don't worry about me, I'm already wet," he told her, stepping out from under the umbrella.

The green-haired girl glanced up at him in surprise. "There's no need to be so manly!" she teased, rolling her eyes.

Torn hmphed as she extended the umbrella over him again. "I don't need it!" he snapped, pushing it away weakly. Yet somehow, the damn umbrella found it's way over his head again. The girl was frustratingly persistent.

He sighed in resignation, muttering under his breath as they made their way to the broken-down Hellkat. Torn felt awkward walking so close; the heat from her arm warmed him each time it brushed against his side.

"Let's see here…" Keira kneeled in front of the Hellkat and opened the hood. Coils of steam puffed up into the frosty air.

"…Okay, it looks like the problem is a lack of compression…there's a hole in the cylinder head due to natural corrosion, but if I replace the gasket it should work fine!"

Torn nodded. She could be talking in another language for all he understood, but those last words sounded good to him. If he couldn't get his ride fixed, he'd be screwed.

Together, they loaded the Hellkat onto a large dolly and wheeled it into Keira's garage. The mechanic was stronger than she looked, and Torn had no choice but to grudgingly accept her help.

Back in the garage, Keira was unscrewing the engine parts while Torn seated himself on a rickety metal bench.

"Could you pass me those valve pliers?" she asked. "It's on the shelf right next to you."

Torn turned to the cabinet and handed her the tool. However, his attention had been caught by the rows of sparkling trophies lining the upper compartment. They glimmered proudly, all gold and silver cups and figurines.

"You won all these?" he inquired, eyebrows raised.

Keira looked up. "Oh, those! Yeah, some of them. But Jak also gave me all of his…" She trailed off, stopping what she was doing. Torn waited apprehensively as she frowned at the floor, apparently lost in thought.

He cleared his throat, if only to break the uneasy silence. "He wasn't hassling you this morning, was he?"

The mechanic glanced at him quickly, then smiled a little sadly. "No, uh, not really. He just wanted to talk, I guess."

'_He just wanted to talk…' _she thought, suddenly feeling a faint pang of guilt. But it didn't last long; she shook her head. _'What am I feeling bad for?! He was the one who hurt me, not the other way around!'_

"Listen Keira. I know it's not exactly my place to be saying this, but if I were you, I wouldn't trust him. A guy who goes around with other men's women is a liar, no two ways about it. So that's all I'm gonna say. Think about it, will you?"

Keira twisted her body, her pale shoulder facing Torn. "I know, but…but Jak…he's different, okay!" she retorted, averting her eyes. What was she defending Jak for, anyway? She had nothing to prove to the tattooed man. "I don't think he really meant to hurt me. I mean, we're over, but…I don't want to hate him."

Torn shrugged. "I never said you had to hate him," he stated gruffly. Great, just great. Now she was probably going to get all teary-eyed again. Why did he bring up Jak in the first place?! "You know what? Just forget it," he voiced throatily, peeved. Absolutely nowhere, that's where trying to give considerate advice got him!

The aqua-haired girl gave a barely audible sigh. "Ah, I'm sorry for getting upset about it…I know you mean well," she told him hesitantly. The commander crossed his arms. "…Thanks, Torn."

Torn only grunted. The garage fell silent once again, so Keira resumed working on the engine.

"So," she began after a few minutes pause between them. "How have things been with Ashelin? Now that she and Jak are over and all..."

Torn scowled. "What do you mean, 'how have things been with Ashelin'?! Was something supposed to have happened? 'Cuz I missed the memo," he growled defensively.

"Okay, geez! _Someone _sure istouchy!" she snapped back, glowering at him sideways through her green bangs. Why was he always so unbearably cranky?

"Yeah yeah, speak for yourself," he muttered sourly.

Keira flushed, her knuckles clenching over the metal pliers. "I thought you, Torn, of all people, would understand."

Torn stared at her: back to him, shoulders hunched, hand gripping the edge of the Hellkat. He shook his head. He would never understand women! Ever…

He stood up, exhaling in defeat.

Keira's slender ears pricked at the soft clicks of boots against cement. So he was walking away…fine! Good riddance! Who needs a crabby jerk hanging around like that, ruining her concentration?

Suddenly, a large, calloused hand placed itself on her smooth shoulder, causing her to startle. "I'm sorry," came the quiet, husky voice.

Keira froze, unsure of what to do. She swallowed.

"I…uh, I'm sorry too, Torn."

Though he could be a hard guy to deal with, she could tell he wasn't all that bad inside. After all, he had helped her out in a way no one had ever bothered to before in this unfriendly city. She had been so bitter lately, making it twice as hard to connect with an emotionally distant person like Torn. And though she couldn't say exactly what for, she felt as though she owed him an apology.

Torn was aghast to feel blood rising up the sides of his tattooed neck. He quickly removed his hand, letting it drop limply to his side. What was he doing?! His feet had just carried him over here, and before he knew it, those embarrassingly soft words had slipped from his mouth… He had been an ass, yeah, sure, whatever, but his apology had sounded so…well, _apologetic._

The mechanic turned her face towards him, lips curling into a forgiving smile. Her eyes were open, genuine. He was relieved to feel the awkward tension dissipate, and he unconsciously smiled back.

Keira was fascinated. She had never seen Torn do that before. Yet now, right before her, the grim and moody line curved not into an irritated frown, but an actual smile. The murky gloom of the ink shifted upwards, and his brown eyes were heavy with a slow warmth.

"You should smile more, you know that?"

His mouth self-consciously slumped back into its regular position. He snorted and sat back down, the rusted bench creaking under his weight.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Keira turned back to the cruiser and laughed, a light, clear sound. In spite of himself, Torn was pleased.

The water pounded on the roof and sloshed down the walls. The light bulb hummed gently, yellow light reflecting off the gleaming metal parts. Keira decided to fix several other problems she had discovered, and she explained them to him absentmindedly as she worked. Torn sprawled on the bench comfortably as he dried, listening to the sound of her voice and occasionally reaching over to hand a tool. It was strangely peaceful, being in this cluttered garage with the odd mechanic.

* * *

Jak was numb. A cloying sensation was stewing in his chest.

He had returned to her place early that evening, only to be met with a silent door and a missing zoomer. Knowing the energetic mechanic, she had gone right back to her garage. He smiled. _'Typical Keira,' _he mused.

Despite the relentless cascade of thick raindrops, Jak made the drive to the stadium. He refused to wait any longer. Any more time, and the situation might slip irretrievably from his grasp. Keira had been emotional, dramatic, devastated. Honestly, he was taken aback. But they needed to talk, sooner rather than later.

The howling wind battered his jacket as he dismounted his zoomer, and soaked leaves flopped beneath his sodden shoes. He hunched over protectively, hurrying to the stadium entrance. The wet cloth that was wrapped around the soles of his boots stifled his footsteps as he entered the cement hallway. Huge posters of his face smirked at him from the walls, and the blond averted his eyes in uneasiness.

Suddenly, Jak came to a halt at the sound of muffled voices. It was most definitely Keira, as well as a gravelly visitor. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously. What would it take to get Keira by herself? What the hell was Torn doing with her, _again_? It just wasn't normal. Something was going on, and Jak needed to know what.

He quieted his breathing and listened stilly.

"…But Jak also gave me all of his…"

Yeah. He remembered those races. He could still see the way she glanced down shyly at first, her eyes brightening in pride and admiration for him. His gloved fingers tensed as he continued to listen apprehensively.

"He wasn't hassling you this morning, was he?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. _'Of course I wasn't, mind your own damn business, Torn! Who does this guy think he is?"_

"No, uh, not really. He just wanted to talk, I guess."

He felt slight relief at this statement, but was still overwhelmingly annoyed.

"…A guy who goes around with other men's women is a liar, no two ways about it."

_WHAT. _He cursed inaudibly under his breath, fuming. Torn, that lowlife scum. Jak could see what he was doing all too clearly now. As some sort of underhanded revenge maneuver for the affair with Ashelin, the Freedom League commander was attempting to convince Keira into despising the hero. Of course Torn had no actual romantic interest in her. He was merely manipulating her friendly, innocent personality for his own selfish means.

'_Damn you, Torn! If you're so mad over Ashelin, why don't you come and face me like a man? Don't bring Keira into this, you dirty bastard!'_

Fury began to simmer in his bones, and a dark voice awakened.

'**A liar. Haha, a liar. He called you a liar.'**

'_I'm not a liar. None of that is true!'_

'**Look at that face. Now that's the face of a liar, isn't it?' **

Jak turned to the larger-than-life poster beside him. His handsome, cocky visage smirked back from the paper. Suddenly, it looked eerily similar to that of another champion racer, one whose sneering mug was pasted on those same walls not too long ago. The thought immediately made him shudder in revulsion.

'**Don't be like that. What's so wrong about being the bad guy, anyway? It gets you what you want, and that's all that matters in the end. Just accept it, you're a liar. And if Torn is in your way, let me out and I'll rip him down.'**

'_NO. Stop it. Right now.'_

'**We can have Keira, too. Why are you getting so upset, Jak?'**

With immense difficulty, the man gritted his teeth and suppressed the agonizing whisper. He would not acknowledge the demon.

"…but Jak…he's different, okay!"

The blond shifted restlessly. A spark of hope flickered inside of him. She wasn't just listening to Torn's lies.

"I don't think he really meant to hurt me. I mean, we're over, but…I don't want to hate him."

'_I didn't mean to hurt you. We're not over. Just give me a chance. One chance for one mistake.'_

"I never said you had to hate him."

'_Liar, that's exactly what you're trying to do!"_

"I know you mean well… Thanks, Torn."

'_He doesn't, Keira.'_

Then tensions spiked, and Jak froze as he heard them snap at each other. There was a sudden pause.

…

Why were they thanking each other? What the hell was going on in there?! His eyes narrowed further and his ears strained painfully.

"You should smile more, you know that?"

She laughed. He had forgotten the sound.

That was it. Jak had enough. He couldn't keep skulking around in the corridor eavesdropping, unable to interfere. But he couldn't bring himself to confront them either. His muscles ached. His head buzzed. He felt sick.

'_I can't deal with this right now. Whatever's going on, I'll put an end to it. This is all wrong.'_

Tomorrow. That was his decision as he stepped back into the storming city. As the man mounted his rain-slicked zoomer, he heard it again.

'**Don't worry. I'll take back what's ours, and give back a little punishment.'**

Jak shook his head vigorously, beads of water flying from his yellow-green locks. The last thing he needed right now was to lose control of the dark eco. He would earn back Keira, and the monster would stay inside.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know where you want to see this story go. I know Jak's an ass right now, but I'll try to make him better. Thanks for reading, and reviews are really appreciated! **


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